Plan 'A'  Redux
by LizD
Summary: A B&B Tale ... but what if Hannah said yes.  How would Brennan move on and with whom?  What would it take for B&B to find their way back to each other? Give it a chance you might be surprised. - EPILOGUE UP!
1. Chapter 1

**Plan "A": Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Chapter One **

**Spoilers**: Through _**Daredevil in the Mold**_ with one significant change: Hannah said yes. (EW - I know) Don't worry we will FFWD this story about nine months. BYW there is a WILD speculation in this chapter about a rumored event that will happen sometime this year on Bones. Please know that it is just speculation.

**A/N:** While this story does have a distinct smell of Hannah, I will keep her off the page and use her as a prop as much as the story will allow. Think of her like the diner, or Founding Fathers, or Booth's gun or one of Brennan's necklaces. She is there like any other prop, something for the characters to move around or toss aside. She is not good nor is she evil, she just is. This will be a B&B story (at some point) since I'm a shipper, hopelessly so, but not sure how I will get there.

**A/N2:** This story has been done by others and probably better, but I thought I would put my own spin on it. Just for something to do while the show is taking its NEXT hiatus. I really should find another hobby. Will try to post as quickly as possible, encouragement by way of comments and alerts is always a good motivator.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**_**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-_-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-_-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

_I thought I was looking for a good time, but the truth is I think I'm looking for little bit more. I was ... you know what? ... I was going to wait but ... I love you, Hannah ... When I met you I really honestly wondered if I was ever going to meet anyone ever again. ... Marry me ... I want you to be my wife._

_Oh Seeley ... you know I'm not the marrying kind ... But, I love you, Seeley. ... I love you. ... Yes, Yes I will be your wife, I will marry you. Yes._

It took ten hours for Booth's buyer's remorse to set in. They had a great dinner and a wonderful night, but there was no talk of what their future would bring. The next morning before dawn, Hannah was gone again on assignment. She left her ring in the box on the bureau. When he questioned her on it she said that it was too loose, the stone was too big for a work day, and she didn't want to lose it. He accepted that logic, but he didn't like it. Three days later she was back, the ring was again on her finger and she was having lunch with Brennan. Booth hadn't told Brennan about the proposal and he had no idea how Hannah presented it to her. Afterward, she said that Brennan said she was very happy for them both, but Brennan didn't say anything to him. In fact she seemed somewhat cold, curt and aloof with him. He assumed she got hurt and he felt pretty shitty about how the whole thing went down, but assumed they would work it out in time. It was time they didn't get.

Later that February after the engagement, Broadsky struck again and rocked the world for Booth et al. This time Broadsky's aim was not for a killer but one of the finest people Booth had ever known: Caroline Julian. Booth was standing next to her, as were Brennan, Sweets and the Deputy Director of the FBI. While everyone else was convinced that Broadsky's aim was for Booth and missed, Booth knew that Broadsky hit his intended target. Booth felt responsible - he was responsible. He became a man with a single minded mission who accepted help from no one - not even Brennan. He was on the trail of Broadsky and wouldn't let up until he brought him in dead or alive. And that is exactly what he did three months later, Broadsky was brought in bloody and bruised, but he was alive. The FBI hailed Booth as a hero and a super agent; he would accept none of the accolades. Too many innocent people died in his pursuit of Broadsky and those lives were weighing heavily on Booth more heavily than if he had killed them himself.

During that time, Booth had no time for anything personal. His relationship with Hannah was put on hold; less than hold. In those three months, they saw each other only a couple of dozen times between his mission and her work. They were little more than roommates. He wouldn't talk to Hannah about what he was going through tracking down Broadsky or how much it was bringing out his own sniper skeletons. He completely closed off to her emotionally; it was a very dark and lonely time for him. There was little if anything that Hannah could do to help; she just hung on and focused on her career stateside. She changed jobs; she got off the Washington Press Corps and was doing features for a network station. She had done very well for herself.

Booth did not return to major crimes or working homicides. At the start of summer Booth was assigned to head a task force to investigate organized crime on the eastern seaboard. It was a huge responsibility and he had a large budget and staff to manage. The FBI was expecting great things from him. It was a lot more hours and Booth had no need for a forensic anthropologist or any of the other squints. It seemed that the partnership with Brennan was unceremoniously over.

Booth saw the wedge he had placed in his relationship with Hannah, and rededicated himself to working on it. Sadly Hannah did not see the need to rededicate herself to Booth. She loved him there was nothing more she wanted from him; she was quite content with her career and her home life what little there was of it. Booth wanted more. The summer was filled heated discussions about some things that were pretty hard for Booth to accept in stride. First and foremost was her absenteeism. She was away a lot more than she was home and the ring was in the box on the bureau each time. She did not see it as an issue but said she would make an effort to not take every assignment that came her way. Second was the way she acted and dressed particularly when she was not with him. It was nothing short of provocative. She wrote it off as her reporter's style - how she got her good scoops. He didn't like it; she refused to change. She played the trust card and he had to back down or blow the whole thing out of the water. Trusting that she would not make a fool of him did not come easily particularly when she didn't wear the ring, she didn't refer to him as her fiancée and she didn't want to talk about a wedding date or anything beyond her next big story.

Then in August they had a major discussion that nearly broke them. Booth was pushing for a wedding date, Hannah was resisting. He made a comment about not wanting to be fifty when he had his next child. Hannah stated in no uncertain terms that she would never have a baby. It wasn't up for discussion. Booth of course forced the issue. She made some valid points about over population and career responsibilities and that they were not at a point in their relationship or in their careers to even think about having children. He suggested that she not speak for him. They were at an impasse. His position was that they needed to come to a compromise before they actually got married. Hannah was fine with putting off the wedding. The fight ended as per usual with Hannah seducing him. Sex-instead-of-talking wasn't working for Booth they way it had in the past, but he decided to back burner the baby/wedding issue.

In September he recommitted to the relationship again and vowed to himself to make it work. He could compromise on children and she could compromise on the amount of time she was away on assignment. That worked for a while, but by Thanksgiving she was working harder than she had been, and no wedding date had been picked.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Brennan's life was less dramatic over those ten months and was also very good for her career. When Booth went off alone to find Broadsky, Agent Perotta took over the homicide investigations and worked with the squints at the Jeffersonian. Brennan didn't go into the field or interview suspects with Perotta; she was a lab rat just like the rest of the squints. It again became SOP to keep the squints in the lab. She turned over most of the work she was doing with the FBI to Clark Edison who was hired permanently by the Jeffersonian. She consulted on very difficult or high profile cases, but it was not her daily assignment. She maintained an office at the Medico-Legal lab, but she was there less three days a week. The Jeffersonian asked and Brennan accepted a project in Egypt to help restore the museums to their glory after Mubarak stepped down. She met an archeologist from Ireland on that project and they started dating; dating in as much as Brennan dated and the thousands of miles of ocean that separated them would allow. She was writing quite a bit. She finished her last Kathy Reichs novel in April, had created a new heroine and finished that book by middle of summer. It would be published for the Christmas rush. By fall she was three quarters of the way through the next book.

One morning in early September Brennan was struck with a feeling that there was something missing in her life. Career-wise she was at the top of her profession and very well respected. Her work was varied, important and very rewarding. Creatively she had her novels and felt that this new heroine would far surpass the popularity of Kathy Reichs. She really matured as a writer. Personally she had some very close friends that she treasured and a goddaughter that she loved. Her relationship with her father, brother and his family was great. She was satisfied sexually with her relationship with Liam, the archeologist (and a various others that did not warrant a mention), and didn't want more. But there was still something missing.

What Brennan was missing was a child. Spending time with her goddaughter was very fulfilling and it stimulated her maternal instinct. Logically if she were to have a child she would need to do it sooner than later. She did not want Liam involved in her decision nor did she want him as the father. After carefully considering the consequences of her actions, weighing all her options, doing all the research and asking all the questions, she made a decision. She met with her doctor and made an appointment at the fertility clinic to be artificially inseminated. Through Devine intervention, providence or good timing, Brennan got pregnant very quickly. She didn't share the information with anyone but Angela. She had heard the tales of speaking too soon and then miscarrying. She would wait until the end of the first trimester.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

So the winter melted to spring and the spring heated to summer and the summer cooled to fall. As the seasons changed so did the relationship between Booth and Brennan: partnership faded into colleagues and colleagues paled to acquaintances. Professional communication between Booth and Brennan all but stopped by mid July; personal communication was sporadic and limited to making and breaking arrangements for lunch, drinks or coffee. At first there was a pretense to maintain the friendship, but gradually over time that went by the wayside too. No one questioned it. At first it was just a matter of logistics; one of them was busy, and then the next was otherwise occupied, days passed, weeks passed, months passed, seasons passed. Life went on as it does and people grew apart. It was a sad fact of life that both accepted a little too easily.

Once the engagement was announced the crew at the Jeffersonian lost all hope for Booth and Brennan, even Clark Edison had to say that his money backed the wrong horse. The lives of the core group became filled with other things as well. Hodgins and Angela had a beautiful baby girl and they were doting parents which left little time to worry about the love life of even their closest friends. Cam and Paul also got engaged and ran away to Virginia over Memorial Day weekend to tie the knot. Likewise Daisy and Sweets on Fourth of July but they went to Vegas. And the rest of the squints all were happy in their personal lives, even Fisher. It seemed that there were fewer gatherings with extended friends as they all had paired off and were into other things. They had all moved on.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Angela and Hodgins felt the loss of the group and wanted more people in their daughter's life. They decided to host Thanksgiving. Everyone was invited including Booth and Hannah - they came late and Hannah left early. It was a very festive event. There was some awkwardness about Booth and Brennan sitting at the same table, but it didn't come from them. They, Brennan and the Couple Booth chatted cordially and inquired about the other's activities and suggested a lunch date that they knew would never been firmed up. Sweets observed them - the three of them - all night long. Brennan always had a glass of wine in her hand or in front of her, but Sweets noticed she wasn't drinking. She didn't eat much either. He also noticed that Brennan didn't look at Hannah even when she was speaking to her. She was looking down, away, anywhere but at Hannah or anyone else. Sweets also noticed the subtle glances from Booth to Brennan particularly when Hannah was regaling the group with some fantastic story of far off places and newsworthy people. The topic of the wedding was broached and Sweets thought he saw Brennan blush. Booth held his comments and looked past Hannah as she answered the question: no date set. Hannah left and Sweets noticed that Booth seemed more relaxed after she was gone. His smile seemed genuine and the glances in Brennan's direction grew more frequent. Brennan left shortly after Hannah did claiming an early call with her publisher. Booth and Brennan never spoke in private that Sweets observed and the parting was not unfriendly, but not friendly either.

Sweets rarely saw Booth or Brennan anymore, but he was still distracted by the Booth/Brennan dynamic. His assumption was that there were still some unresolved feelings between them. Booth seemed open to talking to Brennan, but she was completely close off to him. Booth was clearly unhappy in his relationship with Hannah but probably not to the point of ending it. As for Brennan, if he were to make a guess, he would say that she never got over Booth. Of course he had nothing to base that on and it was probably more a romantic wish that they would find their way back to each other than a belief that it would actually happen. Sweets still felt responsible for Booth and Brennan's break up. He never reconciled the role he played. Sweets tried not to feel responsible, but he did. He was. He would see what he could do to help them if not get back together socially or professionally, then he would help each of them to find some closure.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**_**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-_-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-_-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

**A/N:** Anyone want to throw Sweets a blanket party?


	2. Chapter 2

**Plan "A": Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Chapter Two**

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"_-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**_**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-_-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-_-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

On Monday, Sweets came to the lab under the pretense of seeing Daisy. He made his way to Dr. Brennan's office only to find it empty. She was in the lab that day, but she was somewhere else. Sweets waited. He had no idea what he would say to her. He wandered around her office. He noticed a book sticking out of her bag. It was a book on pregnancy. There were neonatal vitamins in the bag as well, and a cup of herbal tea and plain soda crackers on her desk. Was Brennan pregnant?

"Dr. Sweets?" Brennan said as she entered and took her position at her desk. "Did we have an appointment?"

"No," he yipped surprised by her entrance. "I was bringing Daisy something and I thought I would stop in and say Hello. We didn't get a chance to talk much at Thanksgiving."

"There were a great many people there," she said. "However I'm extremely busy at the moment."

"Right, right. I understand. Are you enjoying your work these days?"

"Very much. It's varied and takes a great deal of my time and attention." She looked up at him. "Not all victims and murders. Very rewarding."

"I read your last book and was surprised to see that you killed off your main characters." Sweets was more than surprised; he was disturbed. Kathy and Andy were killed by a psychiatrist/serial killer named Candi LaDulce. He knew enough about the subconscious to know that if it was not an overt slam at him, she was definitely harboring some feelings about the end of the partnership with Booth and Sweets' role in that break up.

"It was a suitable end," she announced as if challenging him to debate her. "There is a new book coming out in a week or two that will introduce a new heroine and hopefully the response will be good enough to warrant a second novel, maybe more."

"I'm anxious to read it. Will she be in charge of finding the killer of Kathy and Andy?"

"No, completely unrelated." She stood up. "I really must get back to work, Dr. Sweets."

"Of course, right … I'll go." He turned like he was actually going to step out but then turned back. "I understand you are in a relationship with an archeologist from Ireland. I'm sorry I didn't get to meet him at Thanksgiving."

"The Irish don't celebrate Thanksgiving," she said coldly. "How is that relevant?"

"Just asking," Sweets said. He didn't know what possessed him, but he blurted out his next question. "Dr. Brennan, are you pregnant?"

"How is that relevant?"

He nodded to the book and the vitamins in her bag. She frowned at his snooping in her office but saw no reason to deny it. "I prefer not to discuss this as yet. I haven't told Cam. I would like to make it past the first trimester."

"I completely understand." He nodded. "Will you be marrying the father … who I assume is the archeologist?"

"Liam is not the father," she stated. "I'm having this baby on my own."

Sweets was about to ask his next prying question but she cut him off.

"I have been inseminated, Dr. Sweets. And I repeat, I would prefer not to discuss this further and I would hope that you will keep this confidential until I am prepared to announce it."

"Of course. Of course. Naturally. My lips are sealed."

"Which means Ms Wick-Sweets."

"Yes, I understand." Sweets nodded. "It was nice seeing you again, Dr. Brennan."

"You as well, Dr. Sweets."

Sweets stepped out of the office. Something occurred to him that unnerved him greatly. He need to be sure. It was probably a ridiculous thought and about as likely as nothing at all, but he needed to be sure. It was still not his place to ask, but he felt compelled to. He stepped back into the office and came close to Brennan's desk. He wanted to keep his voice down.

"Dr. Brennan did you … were you … have you been inseminated with Agent Booth's sperm?"

Brennan's expression did not change. "Dr. Sweets, none of this is your business."

"That's not a denial," he stated. "Does he know? Does Hannah know? Did you do this without discussing it with him?"

"I repeat this is none of your business."

"Agent Booth and Hannah are my friends, as you are."

"This does not affect them." Brennan said unequivocally. She did not choose to share with Sweets her true opinion of his place in her life which was someone south of friend. "The donor will not be involved in anyway. As such it's best to keep the father's identity anonymous."

"I would agree with that under normal circumstances, but - ."

"What are normal circumstances?"

"That the donor in question chose to provide his sperm with foreknowledge of the use of that donation," Sweets pressed.

"I can promise you that the donor was aware of the conditions and use of his sperm at the time of the donation." She looked away. "Waivers were signed. Everything is legal and above reproach."

"Carefully chosen words, Dr Brennan."

"I must get back to work."

"Dr. Brennan, this is wrong," he stated. "Wrong on so many levels."

"Dr. Sweets, please keep your speculation to yourself. You will cause embarrassment to more than a few people including yourself."

"Dr. Brennan - ."

"Dr. Sweets, this conversation is over. Again I rely on your professionalism and your promise to keep my pregnancy confidential." She grabbed her bag and walked out to prevent him from asking any more questions.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Sweets went back to the Jeffersonian with a huge knot in his gut. He tried to convince himself that Brennan wouldn't do something like that. She knew how Booth felt about having a child. She knew that he withdrew his offer last time owing to the fact that he wanted to be part of the child's life. Sweet's assumed that he wanted to be part of Brennan's as well but that was all before the brain tumor that changed everything.

Maybe she didn't. Maybe she went through proper channels and found a suitable donor; he knew her well enough to know that she would not go with an anonymous donor. Maybe it was indeed her archeologist who refused to be part of the child's life and she was claiming to have been inseminated to save face. Of course Brennan didn't do that. He really shouldn't speculate. It could only cause undue angst. What would he say to Booth?

"Hey Sweets," Booth said walking into his office.

Sweets jumped out of his chair. "Knocking? Hello?"

"Door was open and we had a lunch."

"Right, right … Ok … well … lunch?"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Sweets?"

"Nothing … let's go to lunch. Why don't we just go to lunch? OK? Lunch?"

Booth looked at him like he was losing it. "Yeah, whatever Sweets. Can't do lunch … just pulled a case. At least two dead bodies found after a warehouse fire - the squints are already on their way."

"The squints? Human remains? Will Dr. Brennan be there?"

"Yeah, sure. Who else is going to give me IDs and enough information to catch the people responsible?"

"Why did they give this case to you?" he snapped. "I mean, you're organized crime. Is there some link?"

"Not that I know of. Perotta had to leave on a family emergency … something about her mother." He flipped his chip in the air, something Sweets hadn't seen him do in months. "Gonna be a messy one, gotta go."

"You seem almost giddy, Booth. What's that about?"

"It's a murder Sweets! Nothing to be giddy about – but I'll be glad to get out of the office for a while."

"Mind if I tag along?" Sweets asked.

"Sure," he said. "Don't know why you'd want to, but let's go. Chop, Chop."

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Booth and Sweets rolled up to the crime scene. The Jeffersonian crew was already there.

"Seeley!" Cam called over to him.

"Camille," he called back.

"What are you doing here?"

"Perotta had some family emergency … you are stuck with me. OK with that?"

"Well you're probably a little rusty."

"Like riding a bicycle, Cam."

"So you say." She nodded to the entrance. "Bodies were found on the second floor. Fire Department says it's safe, but be careful."

"How many do we have?"

"Depends who you ask."

"What does that mean?"

"Go on up, you'll see."

He entered the structure and climbed the charred stairs to the second level. He saw Hodgins working in one area, and Clark Edison working in another. There was another jumpsuit clad person leaning over a body speaking into a tape recorder.

"Female, Caucasian, twenty to twenty five … fetus appears to be five months."

Booth froze. He recognized the voice right away, and he was glad she was there, but the comment about the fetus shocked him.

"Fetus?" he asked.

Brennan turned to look at him briefly and turned back to the remains in front of her. "Yes, so far we have discovered six women all between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five, all of them were pregnant."

"How does that happen?"

She nodded to the charred walls and the remains of what looked like dividers. "This appears to be some sort of makeshift housing for these women." She pointed to the arm of the remains in front of her. "They were not here of their own volition."

Booth looked and saw that the handcuff on the wrist was still in place and the other side was attached to the charred remains of the bed. A shiver went down Booth's spine. It was a maternity ward but for what purpose. Clearly illegal. "Accidental fire?" he asked.

"Not on a bet," Hodgins interrupted. Booth turned toward him. "Good to see you Booth. You caught yourself a really bad one though."

"Yeah, so you're saying this is arson."

"That's what I'm saying." He lifted some evidence bag with what he felt proved arson, Booth had no way of knowing.

Brennan stood up and lost her balance. "Dr. Brennan," Hodgins reached for her but Booth turned and got to her first preventing her from falling.

"I'm Ok," she said pulling away from Booth. "Stood up too fast and I haven't eaten lunch yet."

"Don't know how you can eat after this," Booth commented. "Sure you're OK?"

She nodded. "Thank you."

"You look kind of pale, Bones," he said gently. "You should go outside – get something to eat - some water."

Clark was watching from his position. "Go ahead Dr. Brennan; we'll be here for a while. Come back when you are feeling better."

She nodded and started out. She lost her footing again in all the debris. Booth was at her side in a flash and escorted her out. She unzipped the top of her jump suit, pulled a bottle of water and an energy bar from a bag in the van, offering both to Booth. He refused it.

"Better?" he asked gently.

"I'm not sick, Booth," she said unequivocally.

"Didn't think you were." He waited until she looked him in the eyes. "OK?" he said with much more meaning than the word implied.

"Yes, everything is fine."

"Good," he smiled slightly at her.

"I should get back in there."

He didn't want to let her go just yet. "So what are you thinking? Runaways who got caught up in something over their heads? Do you think they came here pregnant or were they knocked up here?"

"I have no way of determining that. We need to finish processing the crime scene."

"Right, right … of course." She started to walk away from him again. "Hey Bones, you OK with this?" He gestured between the two of them apparently asking if she was OK with them working together.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason," he said quickly. "No reason at all." He smiled nervously. "You're going to need to eat more than a power bar."

"I can take care of myself, Booth."

"I know that all too well, Bones," he said looking at her in a very familiar way. "But I would be happy to take you to lunch."

"No, thanks. I need to get back to work." She turned away from him and went back into the warehouse.

Booth waited a moment and followed after her.

Sweets watched the entire exchange and was fascinated. He had a theory about Booth and Hannah and Booth and Brennan that he had been working since Thanksgiving. Booth and Hannah were clearly not the happily engaged couple that they pretended to be and it seemed to be affecting Booth more than Hannah. Booth was clearly trying to get Brennan's attention at both Thanksgiving and at the crime scene. He postulated that Booth still had feelings for Brennan; rather he had romanticized feelings for her that were exacerbated by the discord in his relationship with Hannah. They were heading for a blow up. When Booth found out that Brennan was pregnant, and if she did indeed use his sperm without consent there would be a Vesuvius style blow up. Sweets needed to watch them closely to prevent any more damage.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**_**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-_-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-_-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

**A/N:** Just a small blanket party for Sweets to get him to mind his own business?


	3. Chapter 3

**Plan "A": Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Chapter Three **

**A/N: **Thank you all for the alerts and comments; nice to see so many familiar handles and some new ones too. Enjoy the ride.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Angela met Brennan coming into the lab and kept pace with her as she walked to her office. "Hey there Bren, I hear Booth is working this case."

"We have eight victims that all need to be identified; this is going to be a late night."

"I'm here for whatever you need, Sweetie, you know that." She grabbed her arm to get Brennan to stop. "So, Booth?"

"Yes, Booth is working this case."

"You Ok with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"It was a little stiff at Thanksgiving, so I just wondered."

"Stiff? It wasn't stiff." She resumed walking. "I don't know what that means."

"It's been a long time since Booth worked with us … with you." She paused. "Since he got engaged to that box of hair and ditched us like a little brother on a prom date."

"Angela, please. We're all professionals."

"Professionals with feelings."

"I don't understand what you're trying to say."

"I just want to know if you are OK with Booth working this case given his … his S.O. and …"

"And?"

"And your … your condition," she whispered.

"It is not a condition Angela, and I'm not holding a flashlight for Booth."

"Holding a torch, Sweetie. It's a torch." She smiled. "I know you have moved on and I know that you are doing things with your life that don't involve Booth, and I think that's great. I just want you to acknowledge that there will be some feelings stirred up by working with Booth again. And with your hormones raging, it could get pretty intense."

"Not all feelings are bad, Ange."

"Wow! Never thought I would hear you say that." She smiled. "Just know that I'm here for you if you need anything, to talk or vent or eat an entire chocolate cake ... whatever you need."

"I'm fine." Brennan turned to Angela to keep her voice down. "Did you tell Dr. Sweets about my ... _condition_?"

"No, I haven't even told my husband." She leaned in. "Why did Sweets ask you about it? Perceptive little bugger."

"I don't know what a bugger is, but he is decidedly small for a male and very perceptive ... and he snoops." She resumed walking. "He has an absurd notion about the father."

"He thinks it's Booth"

"Why would it be Booth's? There are nearly three and a half billion men on the planet, what are the odds that the father of my child would be Booth."

"Better than even," she said like she knew something. Brennan glared at her. "Only because you asked him last time."

"That ... that was … That was an entirely different situation." Angela didn't believe her. "Angela, stop this please," she was totally serious. "This is not a game. If you in anyway imply what you are assuming - assuming without evidence - to anyone it will get around and people will be hurt – namely me – your best friend, god mother to your child. So please accept what I tell you to be true and support me."

"I do, Sweetie, I do. I love you. You are Auntie Bren … I'm sorry." She linked her arm through Brennan's. "I hope you have a little girl too. I want our kids to grow up like sisters."

"You know of course they won't actually be sisters."

"They would be if you used Hodgins sperm like I suggested." She turned to walk away. "Booth is in your office," she called over her shoulder.

Brennan stopped in her tracks. She didn't want to talk to him so soon. Why did he have to draw this case? Why did she have to be working it? In another three days she would have been gone for three weeks and then the news of her pregnancy would be old. The timing just sucked but it couldn't be helped. It was time for Brennan to go on the offensive.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Instead of going to her office, Brennan diverted to Cam's. Cam was just pulling on her lab coat.

"Dr. Saroyan?"

"Dr. Brennan, all the remains should be back here in an hour."

"I have another matter to discuss with you."

Cam motioned for her to sit down. She expected that Brennan would leave now that Booth was working the case. She was at Thanksgiving too and the tension was so think it could be cut it with a knife. "What's on your mind?"

"I haven't wanted to say anything yet but I feel it is time."

"Sounds serious."

"Serious? Yes." She paused. "I'm pregnant."

Cam's face spread into a knowing smile. "I thought you might be." She came over and hugged Brennan hard. "Congratulations!"

"How did you know?" She pushed Cam back still not used to be hugged by people.

Cam shrugged. "You have been drinking a lot more milk recently, you look a little green in the mornings, you aren't drinking alcohol and I saw you taking prenatal vitamins. I notice these things." She shrugged. "And I have seen you with Angela's baby. I knew you wouldn't be far behind."

"I admit that caring for Angela's baby did convince me that I wanted a child of my own."

"So is the father Liam or did you …"

"No. I had a donor. I will be raising this child on my own."

"What does Liam think about this?"

"I haven't consulted him, but I imagine it will end our relationship logistically if for no other reason."

"Yes, I imagine it will. So, is this for public knowledge?"

"Yes, I believe it should be. We will be dealing with some chemicals on this case that I should not be exposed to at this stage of my pregnancy. I would also like to avoid any further speculation or gossip."

Cam felt a little scolded. She had speculated but hadn't gossiped but for Brennan they were virtually the same thing. "How far along are you?"

"Three - less than three months."

"Ok." Something occurred to Cam. "Have you told Booth yet?"

"How would it affect Booth? Because of this case? I assure you that I will perform my duties as I always have."

"I would expect nothing less."

"As the due date draws closer, we can discuss maternity leave but since most of my duties have been turned over to Dr Edison, it should not affect the work of the lab."

"When are you due?"

"June Sixth-," she stopped herself. "June of next year – late June."

"Ok." Cam saw her hesitate and wondered why. She was sure that Brennan knew the date and time of conception down to the microsecond. "Unless you would like to do the honors, I'll let people know."

"I would appreciate it if you took care of that. Thank you."

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Brennan entered her office and Booth was still there on the phone. They made brief eye contact to acknowledge each other. Brennan set her bag down and was pulling on her lab coat to get to work. Hodgins came blasting in.

"Congratulations!" He hugged her hard. "I'm so happy for you. So happy for us." He hugged her again and then turned to Booth. "Did you hear? Isn't this great?"

"What?" Booth asked snapping his phone shut.

"The good doctor here is pregnant."

Booth looked at Brennan; a slow genuine smile crossed his lips. "Congratulations, Bones."

"Thank you." She turned her attention back to Hodgins. "We have a pretty big case in front of us. What can you tell us about how this fire started?"

"Nothing yet … well nothing definitive. I'll get right on that." He grinned at her. "A little baby! You're going to be a great mom and our kids will grow up together." He bounded from the room. Hodgins was a happy man since he got married and happier still since his wife gave birth to the light of his life.

Booth and Brennan were left alone. "So, you OK … I mean everything is OK?" he asked.

"Yes, everything is normal."

Booth nodded. There was so much more to say. So much more to discuss, but it wasn't his place. And all the other stuff they had to discuss wasn't pertinent any more. Colleagues - strictly colleagues. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No, I was going to go to the cafeteria while I waited for the victims to arrive."

"Oh no … not the cafeteria … Let me take you to the diner to celebrate, you can get something healthy."

"Hardly cause for celebration," she quipped. "That's not necessary, Booth."

"It would be my pleasure." He stepped back to let her walk out of the room in front of him. "We'll talk about the case."

"The case?" She hesitated.

"Of course … what else?"

"Nothing, no …nothing else." She studied him for a moment. "OK."

Fifteen sets of eyes follow the pair out of the lab and then exchanged wondering looks.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

At the diner their usual table by the window was taken. They sat on the other side.

"I was going to call," he said once their order had been taken.

"You didn't need to."

"I wanted to."

"But you didn't," she shut him off. "I understand."

"Yeah." He wished he understood. "So big announcement, huh?"

"Yes. I'm very happy," she said flatly. Booth did not want to challenge her statement. She busied herself with her herbal tea. She launched into nervous chatter. "I've been doing a lot of reading about child development and education. I'm seeing a doctor regularly; taking the appropriate vitamins and exercise. I'm exercising and getting plenty of rest."

"Bones, Bones, Bones ... stop. I'm sure you're doing all the right things."

She nodded; her nervousness was only slightly lessened. "I haven't started nesting yet, but I expect that will come in the next trimester."

"Good." He looked down into his coffee. "Bones ... you know ... If you need anything ..." He glanced back up.

"I won't," she said quickly shutting him off.

"It will sound cliché, but you really are glowing."

"That's due to the increased blood flow to -." She stopped and smiled. "Thank you."

The waitress brought their food which occupied the silence between them. Without looking up at him she said, "Thank You, Booth."

He looked over at her. "Bones?" She met his look. An understanding passed between them. He nodded and smiled.

They ate in silence for a moment. Brennan broke it. "Dr Sweets questioned me about the pregnancy," she said softly.

Booth stopped eating and a shadow of anger crossed his face. "Sweets needs to learn to mind his own business."

She saw over his shoulder that Cam and Sweets were making their way to the diner. "So, the victims were all pregnant, you really think this was some sort of..."

Booth didn't understand the shift in conversation until he heard Sweets behind him. "Yes, a baby factory for illegal adoptions. We are doing a records search on the warehouse. I should have something in an hour. We can go - I'll go talk to the owners once Hodgins can give me what started the fire."

"Hey you two," Sweets said sliding in next to Booth. "Seems like old times."

Cam sat down next to Brennan. "We found another victim." She looked at Brennan. "A baby, about three weeks old ... well I think it was three weeks, we will need your expertise on this. I don't think the child died in the fire."

Brennan put down her fork and wiped her mouth. "Ok."

"Dr. Brennan if this is too difficult for you ..."

"Eight pregnant women and one baby all died in a fire which could be arson; I should hope it would be difficult for all of us." She stood up and stepped behind Cam's chair. "If you will excuse me, I need to get back to the lab." She quickly escaped.

Cam and Sweets shared a look. "Did we interrupt something?" Sweets asked. "Is she OK?"

"Yeah, Bones is Bones ... you know," Booth defended.

"I need to get back to the lab too." Cam left.

Sweets switched to the other side of the table and motioned for coffee from the waitress. "So, Booth ... you know Dr. Brennan is pregnant," Sweets said.

"Yes I do. I think it's great."

"Did you discuss who the father was?"

"She told me she was artificially inseminated and that was all. I didn't press. Not my place." Booth hoped that Sweets would get the message.

Sweets paused for a long moment trying to find the right words. "Do you know the disposition of the sperm you donated three years ago?"

Booth leaned back and glared at him. "I don't like what you're implying, DOCTOR Sweets."

"Just looking out for a friend."

Booth shook his head. "That's not friendship, that's wild speculation and has no place in a friendship or outside a Jr. High School Girl's Locker Room."

Sweets didn't feel as scolded as he should have. "How are you and Hannah doing? You still haven't set a date for the wedding. Must be hard with her out of town so much. Have you two talked about children?"

"Sweets ... we are friends of a sort ... so I am going to say this as gently as I can. Keep your super psych skills in the office and off me and mine, OK?"

"Are you including Dr. Brennan in your _mine_?"

"Sweets ... you need to stop beating that dead horse."

"Again, just looking out for a friend."

"Yeah, you looked out for us alright ... and look where we are now."

"Booth, I -."

"Bottom line, I don't need a shrink following me around and questioning everything I say or do, OK?" Booth got up and slapped him on the back a little too hard. "Get this, will you?" He walked out.

Sweets sat there for a moment. "You still didn't answer my questions," Sweets said to himself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Plan "A": Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Chapter Four**

**A/N**: A continued thank you for the alerts and comments. They really go a long way to motivate.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Booth stood in his office looking out the window. He was lost in a bittersweet memory from what felt like decades ago.

**_Hunger.  
__Sex.  
__Whoa.  
__Horse.  
__Cowboy.  
__Child.  
__Baby.  
__Booth.  
__What, what do you think I'm a baby?  
__You're a father.  
__Mother.  
__Birth.  
__Happy.  
__Sperm.  
__Egg.  
__I want a baby.  
__You want to have a baby?  
__Yes, I do. I just—I just realized it. I should have a progeny. It's selfish of me not to.  
__Selfish?  
__Yes.  
__Don't you need a, you know, guy to…  
__Just sperm. You'd be a very good donor, potentially.  
__Me?  
__But you need to be tested, of course.  
__You don't just go around asking for people's sperm.  
__Perhaps we should discuss this.  
__I'm not conflicted if that's what you're concerned about. I've made a reasonable choice.  
__In two seconds over some stupid game._**

Booth shook his head and sat back down at his desk. He started sifting through the files trying to wrap his head around the case. It wasn't coming. His head was still back then.

_He has traits like courage and compassion and empathy that would be tremendous assets to my child. Sperm banks don't catalog those traits._

_Did you just say something nice?_

_No, I gave an objective evaluation._

_Oh, because it sounded like you said something nice._

He couldn't help by smile. "Something nice."

"Agent Booth?"

Booth was pulled back to reality. "Yes?" He looked up to see a young agent standing in his doorway with a file box in his hands.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, sir, but you said you wanted these files right away."

"Files?"

"Yes, the Weston, Eli Weston of Weston Industries. They have held the title on the warehouse for twenty-seven years. Not all together a clean company - if you don't mind my saying so."

"Right, right … thank you. You can leave them on the table."

Back to work; no time for dwelling on ancient history.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Brennan stood over the remains of an infant. The lab bustled around her. Everything blurred in front of her, the voices became white noise. She sunk into a familiar memory.

**_Well, I'm not asking for you to be involved. All I want is your sperm.  
__Uh, you know, if we go, uh, through with this, and I'm around, and if you need help…  
__Well, I'll have a nanny.  
__I—I figured. But, you know, if it's her day off.  
__You don't have faith that I can do it?  
__What?  
__You think I'd be a good mother, don't you?  
__Yeah, of course.  
__I know sometimes you don't think I'm empathetic. And it can be difficult for me sometimes. But I would love my child, Booth, I would.  
__I know. I—I know that, Bones.  
__No obligation. I don't want you to feel any obligation.  
__I'll do it. Don't worry about it, okay? It's your kid, it's totally yours.  
__Not worried about it.  
__I'm just saying I'll do it.  
__Would you like legal protection?  
__What?  
__With the child, so you feel secure that I won't be asking for money or support.  
__No, I—I don't need legal protection.  
__But if you do…  
__I don't._**

"Dr Brennan? Dr. Brennan?"

Brennan looked over at Clark Edison. "I'm sorry did you say something?"

"Yes. Are you alright? You look ... I don't know ... odd."

"I'm fine," she dismissed. "What were you saying?"

"I was saying that we have identified one of the victims - a Stacy Landis. She is a runaway from Dallas. Did you want to contact Agent Booth?"

"No," she said a little too quickly. "No, you are lead. I will continue to work on the infant and the other victims."

"Ok," he said hesitantly and stepped away.

Brennan went back to work, as horrific as her work could be sometimes, she was grateful to have something to distract her.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Booth spent several hours sorting through the files on Weston Industries and Eli Weston. He was not a model citizen by any means, but nothing in his jacket indicated he would be connected with anything like a black market baby factory. It was time to go speak with Weston himself. He reached for the phone to call Brennan. He had dialed seven of the nine digits before he remembered they were not partners any more. All that thinking about the past and working a murder investigation had blurred the lines between past and present.

He hung up the phone just as it rang.

"Booth," he barked.

"Agent Booth, Dr. Clark Edison ... with the Jeffersonian Insti-."

"I know who you are Edison, what've you got?"

"We have identified one of the victims. Her name is Stacy Landis. She's a runaway from Dallas, Dallas Texas. Eighteen years old. Went missing about three years ago."

"Who made the ID?"

"Dr. Saroyan was able to pull a finger print and matched it from the missing children's database."

"Great, send me what you have and I'll make the notification."

"It should be in your email."

"How's Hodgins doing with the cause of the fire?"

"Nothing definitive yet." Clark hesitated. "There is something else."

"What?"

"These women were dead before the fire began."

"What was the COD?"

"It's difficult to determine."

"I know it's difficult, Edison. If anyone could figure it out we wouldn't need the best of the best from the Jeffersonian?"

"I don't want to give you information before we are sure."

"Best guess, Edison."

"I'm not comfortable with that either."

"Can we rule anything out?"

"Victims one through seven don't appear to be shot or stabbed. All of them died before the fire started."

"Well I guess that is something, right?" He cleared his throat. "Work faster Edison."

"We will."

"Hey, Clark ... is Bones there? Usually she is the one who -" He was sorry he asked the question right after the words came out of his mouth.

"Dr. Brennan? Yes. She's here. I'm lead on this case so -."

"Right, right ... sorry ... not up to speed on how things work now. Thanks. Get back to work." He dropped the phone in the cradle. This was going to be harder than he thought. He shook it off and checked his email.

The information for Stacy Landis was already there. The picture was of a fifteen year old girl with chestnut brown hair and pale blue eyes. Her father was a science teacher and her mother was a bookkeeper. She had an older brother. She was an honor student. She left for school one day and never returned. There was no trouble at home; nothing to indicate that she ran away. The report from Edison said that she was three months pregnant.

Booth pushed back from his desk in disgust. It had been a while since he worked a murder case, but he always hated when kids got killed, and Stacy Landis was a kid. How did she get from Dallas to DC? Why? Did she leave with a boyfriend? Was she kidnapped? Where was she for the past three years? Who was taking care of her? Was she just on the streets? How long had she been in Washington? Was this her first pregnancy? He caught her image again out of the corner of his eye. She looked like a young Temperance Brennan.

Booth looked back out the window. Echoes from the past were still haunting him.

_You do want her to have your baby, don't you?_

**_Of course I do, it's just, I want her to have a baby because it's what she wants.  
_****_And you could just walk away like a heartless cad while she changes poo all by her lonesome?  
_****_It's what she wants!  
_****_So, are you going to let her have this baby alone?  
_****_I didn't say that.  
_****_You are! You're going to abandon your child! Oh, night's deepest gloom washes over my tiny frame.  
_****_No, no, I—I can't walk away. I never said that, okay? Do you understand? I can't walk away. This is my kid. If I can't be involved, I don't want her to have the baby!  
_****_And the sun shines again! Good man, Boothie!  
_****_Hey, what is going on?  
_****_I can't do it. Listen, I have to be involved. If I'm the father, then… I have to be a father.  
_****_Fine, I won't have a baby.  
_****_Fine? That's it?  
_****_No, it doesn't matter now—_**

Booth shook himself out of the memory. There was no point in reliving the ancient past it would only make the present harder. Times change. People change. Opinions change. Nothing is set in stone.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Brennan took a much needed break. She noticed that she fatigued a lot more easily since being pregnant and needed much more sleep each night. She also felt herself becoming more emotional, crying more easily and she got frustrated quickly. Angela called it hormonal and while that might have some truth to it, Brennan couldn't help but feel there was more to it particularly over the past couple of days.

She hadn't expected to see Booth at Thanksgiving. She definitely wasn't prepared for Booth and Hannah. Hannah was overly friendly and gregarious - her typical self. Brennan remembered trying to befriend that woman a year ago; for the life of her she didn't know why. They had nothing in common - nothing other than the one thing. At Thanksgiving, Hannah started pressing Brennan about what she had been doing and getting together for lunch or drinks. She wanted to hear all about her archeologist and sex in the ruins of Egypt. She was just about to share her bliss with Booth, but luckily Angela interrupted with the baby.

Angela had been a godsend to Brennan. She was the only one Brennan could talk to about how she was feeling or what she was thinking. Not that she shared everything with Angela, but she shared with her more than anyone else. Angela was always there pushing Brennan to be more than she thought she could be. She always had been particularly when it came to anything about feelings or about Booth.

**_You can't just announce you're having a baby and walk away.  
__15,000 babies are born every hour. It's not all that exceptional, Angela.  
__Brennan… this is crazy.  
__Why? I'm intellectually gifted, financially secure. Statistically I could expect to have an exceptional child.  
__Fine. Yes. Absolutely. But you do know how this is supposed to work, right? You get naked together. You devour each other in a passionate frenzy.  
__Booth would think that would create an emotional bond between us.  
__Of course that's ridiculous.  
__I knew you'd understand.  
__Then why use Booth at all? Why don't you use Fisher and his discount sperm?  
__No, Booth has a larger mandible and a more prominent zygomatic than Fisher, as well as a more pronounced ratio between the width of his clavicles and his ilia.  
__So, it's because Booth is hot. Now we're getting somewhere.  
__Statistically, attractive people are more successful. I'm only thinking of the child, Angela.  
__Then do this right, sweetie.  
__I am. Emotional ties are ephemeral and undependable. Look at you and Hodgins. You and Roxy. Booth and Rebecca. Booth and Cam.  
__Brennan, I…  
__I appreciate your concern, but I have thought this through rationally._**

"Bren?" Angela called from her door way. "Hey sweetie, are you OK?"

Brennan looked up at her friend, her best friend, her best girlfriend. "Fine." Brennan's voice broke. She hadn't realized it but she had been crying.

Angela sat down next to her. "Oh sweetie." She put her hand on Brennan's back and rubbed in circles. "Maybe you should go home."

Brennan wiped at her eyes. "No, no. There's work to be done. And you know this isn't real." She stood up. "This is just hormones."

"Hormones are real, Bren."

"I'm aware."

"I have some more faces for you in case you need any more incentive. I'm running facial recognition through the missing person's and missing children's database. For the record, I hope we catch this guy and string him up by his balls."

"I'm not sure that that is likely to happen, but Booth will find the people responsible. He doesn't know how not to."

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Booth had to stop home to get his Jeffersonian badge. He wondered if it was still good. He missed working with them - all of them, not just Brennan. He called them squints, he called them eggheads, he called them freaks, but they were smart and dedicated people that he had come to respect, admire and really care about. During his time in Afghanistan he thought about them often, even Zach, but he also felt himself saying good-bye. He was distancing himself from the group emotionally. When he arrived back in Washington without Hannah he was worried that he would get drawn back in. He couldn't allow that. They were Brennan's people. Just like in any divorce, one partner didn't get to keep the other's family. He had to stay away from them. It was why he stopped going to the lab.

Then when Hannah showed up, she was a good excuse to stay away too. There was no logical reason for it, but the engagement made him feel like he didn't have the right to keep any of them as friends - even Cam. It was the main reason he took the job on the task force. He hated the work. It was an old man's job; a lot more paperwork than actually detective work. He was still too young to be trapped inside at a desk. The other reason he took the job was so that his hours would be more regular. He and Hannah had severely drifted while he was working the Broadsky case. She had befriended a cameraman named Charlie. She swore nothing happened between them; that they were just friends. Booth had to believe her and if she had cheated on him, he only had himself to blame. It was interesting that he didn't care more. Five years ago if he suspected any woman of cheating on him, she was out like yesterday's garbage. Was he growing up? Was he taking responsibility for his own actions in a relationship? Or was it something else? The summer was tense, but in September they were back on track - at least that what they agreed upon. Didn't work out that way. Anyway, it was not about Hannah, it was about the squints. He missed them.

Then Thanksgiving came. Hannah was supposed to be out of town. Parker was going away with Rebecca and her boyfriend; Booth didn't care. He got Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with Parker. Pops and some women he met in the nursing home were planning on going away together. Jared and Padme were off with her family. So when Angela called and invited him - well the couple Booth - to dinner, he saw no reason to say no. He honestly didn't think Brennan would go. He didn't think Hannah would fly in for it. Both those things happened and he was a little uncomfortable, but he thought he hid it well.

It was great to see the group again. He was great to see them all so happy and moving on with their lives. Angela and Hodgins little girl was an angel. Booth thought he would be a great dad to a little girl and relished the idea of scaring anyway any boy who tried to date her. Cam and Paul were very comfortable together and Michelle really liked Paul too. They were a nice family unit. He had never see Cam so happy or Michelle. Clark Edison and Nora were committed to not committing and it worked for them; Hannah seemed to think that was perfect. Wendell was dating a very nice woman who literally was the girl next door. They had known each other since they were five. She was a graduate student working on a doctorate in philosophy. Fisher was there stag, but he was unusually jovial too. Daisy and Sweets were a little too too - as per usual. Daisy oh'd and ah'd over the baby but made it very clear that she did not want one of her own. Sweets seemed to be OK with that. Vincent Nigel Murray was there with his sister and a 'friend' and he was talking a lot about some music thing he had going on. Brennan was there with a colleague and they were talking about some paper they were going to publish. Booth didn't remember his name, but it probably wasn't that archeologist she had been seeing. Booth thought he might be from Ireland, but didn't pick up any accent. The guy seemed Ok, but not someone Booth would hang with; they didn't have much to say to each other. It seemed that everyone's life had moved forward without Booth being around to experience each milestone and it made him a little sad. Booth was of course lumped into the crowd of happiness with his fiancée and her great success over the past year as well as his career advancement and bringing in Broadsky. Booth didn't feel the happiness or the success that was heaped on him, but he didn't try to correct them.

He saw Hannah trying to be overly friendly with Brennan and Brennan giving short answers. It had been a little while since he and Brennan had talked. After the last time, he didn't think that a public gathering like Thanksgiving was the right time or place and he didn't want to start something that he couldn't finish. There was a part of him that wanted to protect Brennan from Hannah's prying questions but he didn't have to; Angela came to the rescue and Hannah escaped quickly after dinner. Then Brennan was gone. Until Monday morning he had no intention of jumping into her world again. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, or so they say.

He changed quickly into jeans and a tee shirt before heading to the lab. He thought about grabbing something to eat, but if Brennan were still there, maybe they could resume their conversation from lunch. As he drove to the Jeffersonian, his mind wandered over the events of the last several months and naturally after the big announcement that day came to rest on Brennan and the last conversation they had before they saw each other at Thanksgiving.

**_What's on your mind, Temperance? __How can I help you?  
_****_I have revisited the idea of having a baby … __a child and have decided that this is the right __time for me. For the same reasons I cited __almost three years ago, I would like you __to be the donor._**

He shook the memory from his head it would only lead to what ifs and requestioning the decision he made.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Brennan was working in the Bone Room alone. Most of the others had gone on dinner break or home for the night. She would be leaving shortly, but just wanted to finish her notes on one more set of remains. Images and memories kept forcing her mind in directions she didn't want to go. Past and present were mingling and confusing her, upsetting her. It had to be the hormones.

Seeing Booth at Thanksgiving so happy with Hannah and then again so soon with the case she found it hard to not think about him; to not think of their distant past and their recent past.

**_There will be no other legal documents that you __have to sign, as the ones you signed before are __still in effect ... I'm seeking your verbal consent ... __I understand that our relative situations are __different now ... you are engaged to be married ... __children of your own ... you will not be required __to provide either financial or custodial support __for this child.  
__Why me, Bones?_**

"Bones?" Booth called from the doorway. Brennan was shaken out of her memory. "Bones, are you OK?"

She stood up. "Fine." Again her voice cracked.

He stepped closer. "Bones, you're crying."

She reactively stepped back and wiped at her eyes. "No, I'm not ... it's just ... It's nothing."

Booth tried not to look her in the eyes, but he couldn't help himself. Brennan brought out the protector in him and more. "You shouldn't be there this late."

"It's not that late."

"Late enough and you probably haven't had dinner. Whatever you're doing can keep until tomorrow. I'm going to grab a bite to eat, why don't you come with." He flashed a charming smile. "My treat."

She was not charmed. "Booth, I don't need or want you to take care of me."

"Then you need to take care of yourself."

"I'll be done shortly." She snapped the gloves off and stuffed them in her pocket. "What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for Hodgins. Wanted to see what he came up with about the cause of the fire. I know he has been working with the FBI crime scene unit, but he tends to get better results than they do."

"He will be back. He took Angela home."

"OK." He started to leave. "Is it Ok if I wait?"

"Sure, you know where the lounge is." She went back to work.

"Edison called me today to say that these girls didn't die in the fire."

"That is true."

"Do you have cause of death?"

"Victims one, three, four, five and seven were all smothered. All were dosed with large quantities of ketamine and victims two and six died of an overdose - my best guess."

"You guessed? You made a best guess?" He almost laughed. "So when did you figure that out?"

She tossed the lab results toward him. "I was making my analysis on the last set of remains just as you came in."

"Edison didn't pick up on this?"

"There are minute traces of ..." she started to explain her reasoning and why Clark Edison may have missed it. "Do you really need me to explain my findings? It will be in the report." She was too tired and really didn't want to have to translate her findings into lay-speak for Booth.

"No, no ... I believe you." The chasm between them was more than evident. "I spoke with Eli Weston, the owner of the warehouse. He claims that it had been locked up for more than five years. His company has been in trouble and the building was not in use."

"So there is no way of knowing who was in there or for how long."

"I'm assuming you will tell me how long they were squatting there. I have some people contacting the local LEOs to find out what they know, and we are canvassing the area for anything we can find. I have a few CIs that are trying to dig up some information about black market adoptions too. We'll get the people responsible, Bones."

"I'm sure you will." She went back to doing what she was doing before he arrived. "I'll be leaving in three days and be gone for three weeks." She didn't know why she was telling him. It wasn't his business.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to Egypt. I need to finish up some work I was doing there. Then I am going to Ireland to wrap up the paper that Liam and I are writing."

"Is that safe?"

"Yes. Yes it is more than safe."

"But flying at this -."

"Please, don't ... don't ... just don't. I'm doing this on my own. OK?"

He nodded. He understood her request even if he didn't really understand her reasons. "OK." He had to ask. "Have you told the archeologist about ..."

She fixed him with a withering stare. "About my pregnancy?" Booth nodded. "Not yet. I was trying to keep this fairly quiet."

"You knew it would come out sooner or later."

"I would have preferred later."

"So what will happen?"

"Are you asking if Liam will believe the child is his and propose marriage?"

Booth shrugged a nod.

She shook her head. "I guess it has been a long time, you really don't remember much about me do you."

"Just asking Bones ... don't want to assume anything."

"Liam and I have not had sexual relations since July. He will know that he is not the father. Our relationship is more intellectual than sexual although I do enjoy -."

"OK OK ... enough ... so ... will he be pissed?"

"No. I hope he will be happy for me. We are colleagues and friends, Booth. I don't expect that will change."

"Right, well ... I hope it turns out that way."

"Booth, Liam will not be a father to my child," she stated unequivocally. "I really must finish my work."

"Right ... right ... tell Hodgins that I stopped by, tell him to call me when he gets his answer."

Brennan nodded and Booth left. So much left unsaid.


	5. Chapter 5

**Plan A: Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Chapter Five**

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

After leaving the Jeffersonian, Booth went to the gym. He had a lot of pent up energy that he had to release. He got some of it out, but not enough. He stopped and had a couple of drinks and had a sandwich at a little place by his house where he had been spending a lot of time. But his mind kept spinning and filling with all kinds of thoughts that were better left in a memory, most he pushed away as soon as he recognized them. He tried to focus on the case. He finally made it home after eleven, but he knew sleep was not going to come. So he decided to work.

He had taken home the files on Weston Industries and the preliminary reports from the crime scene unit and the Jeffersonian. The photos were just horrific. It was cold comfort to know that the women were dead before the fire reached them. That meant he was looking for a compassionate murderer – as oxymoronic as that was - who wanted to cover his tracks. Booth reminded himself not to assume that the murderer was a male or just one person, but he had a hard time thinking that a woman could kill another woman who was pregnant, but more disturbing things have happened.

The photos were spread around him on the table and floor. He was trying to get a feel for the environment. It was clearly a maternity ward. Did these girls come there already in trouble, knowing that they couldn't keep their children and hoped that whoever was in charge would find a safe home for their baby? Or were these girls abducted and forced into something that best belonged in science fiction? Were they always handcuffed to the bed or was that just for this last act? Booth could make out all kinds of medical paraphernalia. It struck him that there were no baby beds, bassinets, or anything that could hold the baby. There were no baby bottles or remains of diapers, food or anything to take care of a baby. The baby was taken away immediately. Booth couldn't fathom what a mother must endure knowing that a child she was carrying would be ripped away from her at birth. The fear. The devastation that a life she created she would never see again.

What about the fathers? Did these fathers know or were these women inseminated with anonymous sperm? Did anyone know who the fathers were? Was it the same for a man? If the fathers knew, did they feel the same way knowing that they would never know their child?

Booth's mind wandered easily to Brennan. She mentioned that she hadn't started nesting – so anthropological of her to call it that. He smiled thinking of Brennan decorating a nursery with the periodic table, the evolution of man, a full skeleton and various artifacts of distant cultures for children - maybe even an actual mummy. The mobile over the kid's bed would probably be little tiny skulls of various ethnic origins. Brennan wouldn't be the kind to choose pink or blue for gender identification. She would pick a color that stimulated learning like orange or green. There would be no Disney Characters or Winnie the Pooh on the nursery walls. No ceiling border with the alphabet in bright primary colors. No stuffed animals of pink, purple or polka dot. No play dough, colorforms or tiddlywinks. No Xbox, Playstation or Wii. But there would be lots and lots of books - some might even have pictures. Her child would be exposed to the world literally and figuratively – world music, world language, world cultures past and present; to science and nature. Booth envied the baby to have so much to explore and to have a brilliant beautiful dedicated mother to show it all to him.

Booth imagined her as her abdomen swelled. How her gait would change. How her eyes would shine and she felt the life growing within her. He imagined her carrying the baby in her arms, slowing down to keep pace with the new life. He imagined her nursing; singing softly and rocking the child to sleep. She probably didn't even realize how good a mother she would be. It would be the first time in her life that she couldn't use her super brain to work her way through each new change. She would feel it, she would know it. It would be the first time in her life that she would allow herself to love another being unconditionally and know that the being loved her back unconditionally. Booth was happy for her. He envied her. He envied her baby.

He feared for the boy too. Booth was sure she would have a boy. Brennan wouldn't know how to expose the kid to sports and other kids his age. Brennan would probably home school him and take him on digs in far off lands. Booth worried that the poor kid wouldn't stand a chance once he got out in the real world. He would be smart – if he took after his mother he would be a genius - but he'd be a squint. Of course there would other men in Brennan's life. They would be the male role models for the kid, but a kid needed consistency not the parade of men that Brennan would march though his life. Maybe Booth could provide that – but it probably wasn't a good idea. He started to feel his own paternal strings being tugged; strings that were cut short with Hannah. He tied up those strings (metaphorically) and put them away. He had a son whom he loved beyond life itself; it was more than a lot of men got.

Booth wondered how much he would love Parker or Parker would love him if Booth came into his life at age one or two or five or ten or eighteen. The easy answer would be to say just as much, but the honest answer was that they would be strangers until they built a relationship and there would be baggage to sort through and it would never be as it should have been. Was it only mothers that had the biological bond to their children? What ties two beings together? What binds fathers and sons? Fathers and daughters? Do fathers ever really know if it was their sperm that created the child? Does it matter? Brennan would say it was the nature v. nurture debate. Booth always came down on the nature side, but would never give up nurture. People adopt children and say they love them just as much as their own, is that true? Could Booth ever love an adopted child as much as his own? If Booth found out tomorrow that Parker was not biologically his son, would that change how he felt about him? Would it change how Parker felt about Booth? What if Booth had to share Parker with someone biologically connected not just the man Rebecca was dating, would it change anything? Booth knew the answers that he wanted; he just had no idea if they were true or what it all meant.

What bound two people together? Any two people? Parents and children. Husbands and wives. Lovers. Friends. Partners. What if the bond was broken, could re-forging it return it to its original strength? Could it be stronger? Did it depend on how the bond was broken? Was it all just happenstance and timing? Was it luck? Or was there free will involved? Could Booth change his fate?

He was torturing himself. His mind was spinning in seven different directions. He needed to work. He turned his attention again to the pictures in front of him. Something was out of place. One body was not handcuffed to a bed. It was victim number eight. He pulled out the file from the Jeffersonian. Victim eight died of a self inflicted gunshot wound. Well that was information that could have been shared directly rather than in a written report.

"Damn it, Bones," he said to the empty room. "You know you should have told me that. It hasn't been that long."

What did they know about victim number eight? Female, white, age estimated at seventeen or eighteen. She was six months pregnant with twins and it wasn't her first pregnancy or probably her first birth. Booth really wanted to know how they knew that. She had no dental work done and was severely malnourished. Bone markers indicated that she had not been restrained. If she was another mother there, and these women - these girls were restrained all the time, wouldn't she also have shown the signs of that even if she wasn't restrained at the time of death?

So this was a murder – multiple murder/suicide. But why? And who was not there at the time of the murders/fire? He looked around for the video from the fire. Someone surely showed up at the scene and was probably caught on tape.

Booth studied the shots of Victim eight. Something was missing. How could he have missed that? He was too distracted. He needed to focus.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Booth attempted to go to bed around one after screening the video from the fire about twenty times. He had a couple of possibles, but sent it to Angela and Sweets to see what they could find. Sleep was not to be; he tossed and turned until the phone rang. The search for the Landis family came to an end. The father had died and the mother and son moved back to Detroit six months ago. Booth would contact the local field office in Detroit to make the notification in the morning. Still sleep didn't come.

He was up routing around in the refrigerator for something when Hodgins called around two-thirty. He told Booth that the cause of the fire was simple gasoline and a candle and some very flammable materials. His only explanation for taking so long was that he was looking for zebras. Booth hated that phrase. Hodgins had no explanation for calling that late other than Brennan told him that Booth was waiting for his call. Hodgins was still working on baby time so the middle of the night was as good as the middle of the day. Hodgins also said that the most badly burned victim was number eight; she was at ground zero of the fire. Booth guessed that. She probably doused herself pretty good, lit the candle and shot herself before she was consumed by the fire. Booth squeezed his eyes shut against the image. What would drive a pregnant woman to kill the other pregnant women and herself? Clearly victim number eight had enough. If she were behind this murder and fire could she still be called a victim? Given her situation, yes, she was a victim. But where were the captors when this went down? What was in it for them? Was this really black market adoptions or white slavery? Or were these women surrogates against their will? Did Bones do DNA testing for the mother and fetus? All questions for the morning.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

He was just dozing off when the call came in from Hannah. It was not four yet. She rarely paid attention to the time zone change. She was free to talk at odd hours, Booth never told her to not call. That morning the call quickly descended into a raging fight and worse. She called to say that her assignment had been extended and that she would try to make it home by Christmas, but definitely by New Year's Eve. Her constant absence was a hot spot for Booth. How she so blithely dropped something like that was beyond reasoning. She knew that her being away so much bothered her. It more than bothered him it was a major wedge in their relationship. It would be the wedge that finally divided them. Booth paced as the discussion spiraled out of control. He found her ring on the bureau – that was the last straw. He was done.

_-Did you ever intend to marry me or did you say yes to pacify me? … _

_-Yes, it's a real question. … _

_-I know … I know … I know, and I have apologized for that and have tried to make amends. … _

_-I accepted your apology and never held it against you … _

_-No I didn't. We both accepted responsibility for that. … _

_-In September you promised me that you would take fewer out of town assignments. … _

_-I understand that it's your career. … _

_-Your career seems much more important than we are. … _

_-No, I don't want to wait until you're home to discuss this. … _

_-Does it sound like an ultimatum to you? … _

_-Then maybe it is. So what do you say, Hannah? Us or the job. … _

_-Unreasonable? I'm being unreasonable? … _

_-Unreasonable is expecting me to sit here and wait for you to drop by once every six or nine weeks. … _

_-No. … No. … _

_-No, I'm packing your stuff and sending it to the station. Maybe they can put a cot in for you for as much as you'd use it. Or should I send it to Charlie's? … _

_-Don't say that. …. _

_-I don't want to hear it. … _

_-You're not sorry and you don't love me. … _

_-I wonder if you ever did. … _

_-How can you possibly say you love me when you are never with me? … _

_-You don't even know me. … _

_-I'm done Hannah. Done. … _

_-Moving on. … _

_-Oh, I'm way past mad, Hannah. … _

_-What? … What? … _

_-Sacrifice? Do you know what I gave up for you? … _

_-Do you have any idea how being with you changed things for me? … _

_-You don't know what you're talking about. … _

_-We're not going to talk about this … _

_-No. … No. … I'm done. … _

_-Suit yourself … _

_-Goodbye, Hannah. … _

_-No … No … I'm done. Hanging up now. … _

_-Don't call back … _

_-Don't … _

_-Goodbye. _

He ended the call, threw the phone across the room and punched the wall. The walls in his apartment were made of old style plaster and wood planks. He made a mess of the wall and of his hand. He heard the muffled phone ring. His eyes flashed with rage and he stormed out of the apartment.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

There were sixteen missed calls on his cell phone when he got back. He deleted them all without looking. There was no point in sleeping. He grabbed a box from the utility room and tossed all of Hannah's stuff in it roughly. It wasn't much - a few toiletries, some clothes, that's about it. The box was not full. She never actually moved in but Booth didn't take that personally. She was a nomad; she never moved in anywhere. He stuffed the ring in the safe where he kept his weapons. That was a waste of money, but maybe he could pawn it and get that Glock9 he was saving for. At least he would know where the Glock was every night. After the walk he was surprisingly calm. He had no remorse except maybe for how angry he got. I should have been a rational discussion. God knows it wasn't the first time they had that fight. But Booth was gratified to know that it would be the last time. He meant it. He was done. There was nothing she could say this time. With any luck, she wouldn't try.

He showered, dressed and left. He was on his way to work but decided that he would swing by the warehouse to see if he missed anything. He pulled up and killed the lights. It was pre dawn and still pretty dark. He saw a flash light beam on the second floor. He grabbed his own, pulled his weapon and made his way silently up the stairs.

"HOLD IT," he ordered. "FBI. Drop to your knees and lace your fingers behind your neck." The person froze and did as ordered. Booth stepped over ready to use his handcuffs. "Bones? What the hell? For God's sake. Get up." He holstered his weapon and helped her up. "I could've killed you. Why didn't you say anything? What're you doing here?"

"Working."

"You shouldn't be here by yourself in the middle of the night."

"It's almost dawn and I called you three times, you didn't answer."

Booth remembered the sixteen calls he cleared without looking. He wondered how many others were not from Hannah. "What're you looking for?"

"Something I missed. I can't accept that Victim eight killed these women and then herself. Why didn't she go for help? Or help them escape? She was pregnant with twins how could she possibly kill herself?"

"We don't know that's what happened."

"We know the COD was a gunshot right here." She made her hand like a pistol and aimed it up under her chin at the digastric muscle.

Their eyes met in the shadows. Booth closed his injured hand around her 'pistol' gently and pulled it away. "Careful with that thing," he said softly. "It could be loaded." Brennan blushed. "We know she was killed by a gun shot in what appears to be self-inflicted." He took her 'pistol' hand still held firmly in his and directed it under his own chin. "Maybe it wasn't suicide. Maybe it was murder."

The proximity was too much. She slipped her hand out of his missing the feel of him as soon as she was free and stepped back. "Are you counseling me no to jump to conclusions?" she asked.

"Tides have turned, eh Bones."

"Have they?" she asked intently.

What did she know? What did she suspect? She could always read him in the past, but that was years ago. "We're not going to find anything in the dark," he stated. "We'll come back when it's light out." She nodded. She started to step around him to get her bag. "Bones?"

She looked up at him. "Booth," she warned.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

He didn't want to talk about what happened with Hannah and he didn't know why he needed to apologize, but somewhere in the back of his mind he felt that Brennan deserved an apology for his bad choice of Hannah. The choice that led to the demise of their partnership, their friendship and anything else that they could have had. "Call it a blanket apology."

Brennan frowned; she didn't like that ambiguity of a blanket apology. "What happened to your hand?"

"A wall hit it." He said inspecting his hand. He looked up and locked his gaze with hers. "Just jumped right out and hit my hand." He smiled.

"You should be more careful ... around dangerous walls." She smiled back.

He was gratified that she was playing with him. In the past she would have corrected the idea of a wall hitting him and the joke would have been lost. "Steps have been taken," he assured her.

"Still, you should have that looked at."

"You're a doctor." He held it out for her.

She tore her gaze away from his eyes and looked down at his hand. She took it in both of her and inspected the bones and the abrasions.

"What's the diagnosis, Doc?"

She looked back up at him but kept his hand in hers. "You'll be fine."

"And getting better all the time." He closed his hand on hers. They stayed there in the shadows for a long moment. So much passing between them but none of it said. "Breakfast?"

"I could eat."

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-_****-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-_****-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-_****-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-_****-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-_****-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks again for reading, commenting, favoriting and alerting. I am glad there are so many of you enjoying this little story. I'm taking the weekend off from posting (not writing Lord knows) but will be back on Monday with a really great chapter that answers the burning question, "Why me, Bones?" Have a great weekend.


	6. Chapter 6

**Plan "A": Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Chapter Six**

**A/N: T**his will contain flashbacks, please watch the headings. So without further ado ... Why Booth, Bones?

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

The day was less than productive. Booth and Brennan did go back to the warehouse after sunup and found nothing new. Booth went back to the FBI and Brennan went to the lab. She was approving tissue markers and helping with the identifications with Angela. Per Booth's request she ran DNA tests on all the victims including the fetuses. Brennan didn't think it would net much, but yielded to Booth's request. She had a doctor's appointment at four PM and as of four-forty-five she hadn't been seen.

Brennan sat in the waiting room hoping her doctor wouldn't keep her too much later. They were to discuss the need for prenatal testing. In that at least Brennan hadn't changed, the more information she had the better. Her hand rested on her abdomen and she reflected on what was happening in her body. She was nearing the end of the last week of the first trimester. She should be feeling better, less nauseated. Her morning sickness hadn't been that bad, but she did tire easily. Her mood swings were fairly intolerable to her; but typical for the first trimester. Those effects would be subsiding. It would be nice to get back on a regular schedule. At least she had gotten back her appetite - almost too much. The embryo could officially be called a fetus; the most critical part of development was over and it would enter into a rapid growth cycle. She put both hands on her abdomen. It would start swelling, not yet, but soon. She wasn't looking forward to the body aches or stretch marks, but she was very excited about feeling the child move inside of her. She was fascinated with Angela's pregnancy. It wasn't the first time Brennan had been around a pregnant woman but she seemed to be more receptive to the wonders of pregnancy with Angela.

A young woman came into the office to see another doctor. She sat down near Brennan. They smiled at each other.

"How far along?" the young woman asked rubbing her seven month belly.

"Eighty-three days," Brennan said with authority.

"You know the exact date?" she laughed. "I'm not even sure who the father is."

Brennan smiled and nodded. Yes, she knew the date of conception.

**=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= **

_On a rainy September evening, two days after making her life changing decision Brennan screwed up her courage enough to make the call. _

_"Hello, this is Temperance Brennan ... Right, right, of course ... Yes, it has ... I have something I would like to discuss with you ... Serious? Yes, it's fairly serious ... No, my apartment, I would rather not be overheard if that is satisfactory to you. ... Tonight would be fine, if that fits into your schedule ... I'll be home by eight, anytime after that ... Thank you." The call went better than anticipated. She had expected to be denied, cross examined or put off or all three._

_She was home at six-thirty with a lot of nervous energy. She cleaned her already clean house. She showered for the second time that day and took great care dressing. She never thought much about the message wardrobe sent, but that night she was very careful with ever article of clothing and piece of jewelry. She spent extra time on her hair and make-up though in the end she washed it off used only some light concealer under her eyes. She was grateful for the extra time. _

_By eight-thirty she was convinced that she was being stood up and was expecting a phone call rather than a knock at her door. Her anxiety increased as each minute slipped by. By eight-forty-five she had changed her mind and was about to call to cancel. She was fumbling with the phone when the sharp knock came on the door. _

_She took a deep breath. Smoothed her clothes and hair and answered it._

_"Thank you for coming," she said avoiding eye contact and stepping back to allow her guest to enter. "Please come in."_

**=E~N~D~-F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=E~N~D~-F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=E~N~D~-F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=E~N~D~-F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K=**

"Dr. Brennan," the receptionist called shaking Brennan out of her memory. "The doctor will see you now."

Brennan felt her face flush. She smiled at the young woman, wished her luck and excused herself.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Booth was back at the office working the warehouse fire. Since taking over responsibility for the organized crime unit Booth was kicked upstairs; he had a very cushy corner office with an administrative assistant. His hours were long, but regular. Rarely did he have to put in weekend time and he had yet to be called in the middle of the night to go investigate a decomposing body. In fact the COD in most of the murder cases he had seen in the past several months was pretty straight forward - gunshot wound. He had a staff of excellent handpicked agents working with him and he was making some headway. Most agents would be thrilled. It was a promotion; more respect, more money, stable hours, the American dream. Booth hated it.

There was no thrill in pushing a desk. Booth didn't like having people at his beck and call. He preferred to work alone. He only ever had one partner that pushed him, that challenged him, that helped him. Only one partner that he completely relied on, trusted and would go to the end of the earth for: Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian Institution. She forced her way into his life and he let her for various complicated reasons. During their partnership he risked his professional reputation for her, he lied for her, he killed for her, he risked his life for her. Was there anything he wouldn't do for her? Not then. But that was a long time ago; they barely spoke anymore.

Booth leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. How had he lost her? How had he lost the only partner he had ever had? Was it really his ego that got in the way? Or was he just not able to keep her? Was it his fault? Was it hers? Or was it just time to spin off into different directions? She rarely asked him for anything. The few times she did, it was huge. He thought about the last thing she asked for. It was more than huge - it was really too much to ask for. Did he make the right decision?

******=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= **

_Booth was working in his office about three weeks after being put on the task force on a rainy September night. Professionally things were good. Personally was another matter. Hannah was never home. Yes, he had shut her out during the Broadsky case, but that was months ago. He was home, he had taken a job that he didn't want so he have more regular hours. He wasn't expecting that she would be home waiting for him with dinner on the table and his pipe and slippers; but she could have slept in his bed more than once a week if he was lucky. In atypical fashion, Booth voiced his concerns, desires and needs. In typical fashion, nothing was ever decided, and nothing changed. By early September he was coming to the end of his tolerance. He was working his way up to giving her an ultimatum. He wanted to be fair, but he also wanted to be heard and considered. He felt that he had made some serious concessions for her. It was her turn. But she would be away on assignment until the middle of September. Whatever he was thinking about doing would have to wait._

_A call came into his cell. The name and picture surprised him. It had been a long time since these two had talked. _

_"Booth ... I know, Caller ID ... It's been a long time ... How have you been? We should meet and catch up ... Sounds serious ... Ok ... How about the Founding Fathers ... Oh, I see, tonight? ... Tonight is probably fine, but let me check my social calendar." He hoped it was received as a joke. "Tonight is good. ... Ok, I'll see you then."_

_Booth was more than intrigued and not just slightly anxious. He couldn't imagine what the meeting would be about or why it would need to be in private. It was probably case related or some other legal issue needed his attention; probably some family issue._

_The phone call had distracted him. He could no longer concentrate. He went down to the gym to work out his diversion. He lost track of time and was later than he wanted to be since he chose to go home and change into a fresh suit. As he got closer, he fought the urge to cancel, but his curiosity got the better of him. He knocked with two short sharp raps. The door opened and he was invited in._

******=E~N~D~-F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=E~N~D~-F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=E~N~D~-F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=E~N~D~-F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K=**

"Agent Booth," his assistant called to him. "There's a call for you ... line one ... it's your fiancée."

Booth fought the urge to tell him that Hannah was no longer his fiancée. He studied the young man who pulled the job as his assistant. He was so young, so fresh, so eager to learn. He might actually make a good agent one day. He was already a better than average analyst. In Booth's mind it was beneath this kid to answer Booth's phone, to fetch coffee or do any of the other mundane tasks that were required in the position. Booth did something he never did to the kid. "Take a message," he said. "I need to get to a meeting."

The kid knew there was no meeting, and that he would be forced to relay the message to the fiancée. Being stuck in the middle of a fight between lovers was worse than mundane and really not in his job description. So the kid didn't have to lie; Booth picked up his jacket and quickly left the office.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Brennan's doctor's visit went well. They discussed the various prenatal tests and discussed possible genetic concerns from family history. All tests would be scheduled for when she returned. Brennan took the long way back to the lab via the World War II Memorial at the east end of the reflecting pool. She liked the view from that end. As she walked toward the Lincoln Memorial, her mind wandered back to that night, that conversation, that request.

Booth took his usually position on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial; he favorite spot in the world. Hannah was pushed from his mind. The only thought he could focus on was a conversation he had three months prior and in light of recent events, he had to wonder if he made the right decision then.

******=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= **

_"Thank you for coming," Brennan said making brief eye contact with him and stepping back to let Booth enter. "Please come in."_

_Booth noticed right away that Brennan looked nervous but was hiding it well. If he were anyone other than her partner – ex-partner, it wouldn't be noticeable. He was anxious as well and hoped he was hiding it better, but she knew him as well as he did her. Walking into her apartment was like stepping back in time to a place that was familiar, comfortable and safe. He was overwhelmed with how much he had missed her in his life._

_He took a moment to look at her. It had been so long since he was in the presence of the real live woman rather than his overly sympathetic memory. What struck him most - as it always had - was her elegant understated beauty. She was dressed in a simple black silk blouse and jeans. He recognized the necklace and earrings as ones that he had complimented in the past. If she had make-up on at all it was minimal. He had always felt that she looked better simply dressed. The fact that she was unconcerned with how she was perceived by him or anyone else only made her more beautiful to him. _

_Brennan's nervousness was not quelled upon his arrival. Having him in her home was so familiar but so different. It took her mere moments to notice all the changes: deep circles under his eyes, sadness that edged his lips, his shoulders drooped. He had been working too hard was her forgiving assessment; she dared not conjecture on anything else. "May I take your coat?" she asked reaching for his dripping raincoat. She noticed that his scent was different; different soap, different cologne. She had no opinion about it other than it was different. She didn't want to think why he had changed it._

_He sloughed out of his coat and handed it to her. She nodded for him to go into the living area. Nothing seemed to have changed in her apartment but he still felt that he needed to look around. _

_"May I get you a drink?" she asked._

_"No … no thanks." He turned to her. "You're looking well, Bones." His old nickname did not slip off the tongue as easily as it had in the past._

_"As are you," she noted. "You have lost some excess fat and have built up muscle mass in your upper body and gluteus maximum."_

_He looked down at himself. He was dressed in a suit which didn't reveal his physique, but she was not wrong of course. "How can you know that?" He looked back up at her. Her expression was pleasant but unreadable. "Never mind," he joked. "Forensic Anthropologist, right?"_

_"Actually, that was not a factor. It was my study in kinesiology that led me to that conclusion." She started to launch into an explanation, but decided that he really didn't want to hear it. Nor did she want to explain that she had studied nearly every inch of his body once upon a time and could cite every change from past to present. "Please sit down."_

_He sat on the couch and she sat in the chair. She was still searching for the right words or any clue as to how to start the conversation. Should she cut right to the reason for her requesting the meeting or should she start with some minor small talk, never her strong suit._

_"What's on your mind, Temperance?" he asked gently. "How can I help you?"_

_She looked up into his eyes. They were as warm and inviting as they had always been. She trusted him. She trusted him more than she trusted herself. If this was a wrong course of action, he would certainly have no issue telling her that. It wouldn't have been the end of the world if he refused her; there were other options. She hoped that he would be objective, as objective as he could be given what she was about to ask._

_"I have revisited the idea of having a baby," she paused to see if his expression changed. It didn't. "A child," she restated. "And have decided that this is the right time for me. For the same reasons I cited almost three years ago, I would like you to be the donor."_

_Booth was floored. He sat back and exhaled the breath he was holding._

_"You would not need to donate again as the sperm you donated before has been frozen."_

_Booth was still in a state of shock. "Is it still good?" He didn't know why he asked that, but he needed to say something._

"_It's viable, yes." She leaned back knowing that he was resistant; she didn't want to appear like she was pressuring him into anything. "There will be no other legal documents that you have to sign, as the ones you signed before are still in effect. But out of respect for you, I'm seeking your verbal consent."_

_He shot her a look. Legally she could have used his sperm without asking him. This was a courtesy call. That had to say something; something more than respect. At least she didn't hate him, a thought that had crossed his mind often in the past several months as phone calls were not returned and lunch dates broken. _

"_I understand that our situations are different now, which is why I ask. I know that you feel a great sense of responsibility to a child you have sired. I know that you and Hannah are engaged to be married and will be planning children of your own. Of course you will not be required to provide either financial or custodial support for this child. If you would like to be known as the father at some point in the future that would be your choice. We will discuss the level of your involvement at that time. I trust you and believe that we can come to a fair and equitable solution. Until such time I will keep your involvement in confidence as I'm sure you will."_

"_Wow!" He put his hands through his hair. She had clearly put a lot of thought into this request; he needed to catch up. "Wow! Um … I don't know what I expected but I didn't expect this." He wiped his hands across his face. "I'll take that drink now."_

"_Of course." She was grateful that he gave her a task. She crossed to the kitchen, chose the bottle of scotch over the tequila both of which she bought earlier that day. She pulled two crystal tumblers from the shelf and rejoined him. She poured the scotch and handed him a glass. They looked into each other's eyes, touched glasses and drank. No toast was made._

"_Very good, Bones." He picked up the bottle to inspect it. "Highland Park … thirty year old … Excellent choice." _

"_It was recommended."_

"_I can see why." He took another taste. "Must have set you back quite a bit."_

"_I don't know … maybe." She shook her head. "I wasn't really concerned with the cost."_

_He smiled at her. "Trying to get me drunk on good scotch?"_

"_No," she said quickly. "Would it help?"_

_He laughed. "Sometimes, yeah."_

_She poured another healthy pour into each glass. "I have tequila, too."_

_He laughed again. "No, no, no … this is fine." He nodded over to a copy of the last Kathy Reichs novel sitting on the edge of her table. "Was sorry to see that Kathy and Andy didn't make it in your last book."_

_She got very nervous. It was not a mistake that she killed Kathy and Andy and she could no longer deny the influence Booth had in the development of Special Agent Andy Lister. "There is a new book coming out in a couple of months," she diverted the conversation._

"_A new hero and heroine?"_

"_Just a heroine," she corrected. "She's a former detective who has lost her partner to a serial killer." She didn't want to say it that way, there was no way he would interpret that well. "She is smart, independent and tough and will track the serial killer around the world to get justice for her partner. That of course will be the underlying arc while she handles other cases that come her way." Her new heroine had traits of both Booth and herself. She liked this new character very much._

"_I look forward to it," he said sadly. She had moved on, moved passed, moved forward from her partnership with him. She didn't need him anymore, at least not professionally or inspirationally for her writing, but she did need something from him._

"_I understand that you are making some headway on the organized crime task force."_

"_It's slow going."_

_"A marathon rather than a race?"_

_"Yes." He smiled thinking that if nothing else he had impacted her life almost as much as she had impacted his. When they met he was drinking, gambling and his work was all passion and anger. He was losing the respect of his superiors and peers alike. No one would work with him; that was the real reason he didn't have a partner back then. Temperance Brennan had tempered him and made him work harder. She taught him to not rely solely on his gut and to follow all the evidence. Those lessons were invaluable in capturing Broadsky and were serving him well on his current assignment._

"_And I have seen Hannah reporting quite a bit. I believe she has changed her affiliation."_

"_Yes, she has." He didn't want to elaborate. _

"_She seems to be reporting from many different parts of the world. She must be away a lot."_

"_Yes, she is." He felt he needed to say something, but to admit to Brennan that he was unhappy in his relationship felt rude and wrong to Brennan and disrespectful of Hannah. They were just hitting a rough patch, it was bound to happen. Once they finally got married, things would be better. "We are both very career driven."_

_Brennan nodded. _

_There was a stiff silence where they focused on the liquor in their glasses and the weight of the crystal in their hands. _

"_Why me, Bones?" He asked after a moment. She started to reply but hesitated just a moment too long. "I thought you were involved with some scientist."_

"_I have an occasional sexual encounter with an archeologist from Ireland, but it's nothing more than that."_

_"Satisfying biological urges?" he prompted._

_"Yes. I don't expect him to be in my life for much longer and I do not wish him to be the father."_

"_Why?"_

"_He does not have the qualities I desire for my child." It was more than that, but she didn't need to elaborate for Booth._

"_I see." He took another sip. "If I asked you not to ... you know ... not to use my stuff."_

"_I will go to a sperm bank," she said easily._

"_Completely anonymous?" he asked. "One from column A, one from column B."_

"_I don't think that it will be like a Chinese take-out menu, but yes. It's not my first choice, but I will respect your wishes and hope for the best."_

_"So you have decided on this child one way or another."_

_"Yes, it's time."_

_"So I get first right of refusal," he mumbled. "Thanks. Thanks a lot." He stood up and paced for moment. He turned back toward her. "Why me, Bones?"_

_She hedged. She was scared to tell him the real reason. If she did she was convinced that he would not agree. "Physiologically you have -."_

"_Yeah, yeah … bone structure, character traits, blah, blah, blah." He was getting frustrated. "So it's all about DNA, huh?"_

"_No," she protested. "It's more than that." She was sorry she said it out loud. She stood up too. "You're getting upset. I don't want you to be upset. I can see that you are reluctant and I don't want you to do anything that will make you uncomfortable." She stepped toward the door. "Please let's just forget I asked."_

_"I haven't said no, Bones. I just want to know why me?"_

_She felt her face get hot and tears pooled in her eyes. She needed to - she wanted to tell him the truth. The truth had never served her with Booth, at least not the truth about her feelings, but he had a right to know what she was feeling. "I'm convinced that I will be more likely to bond with the child if you are the father."_

_He stepped toward her. "What? Why?"_

"_You know why, Booth."_

"_I really don't. I don't hear from you for months and then out of the blue you ask me to father your kid … no strings attached. So tell me, please, in little words so I can understand."_

"_Please don't be upset. I don't want you to feel that you are being pressured in anyway." She motioned for them to sit down. They did. This time they were both on the couch. She took a deep breath and considered her words carefully. "There is no one in the world I trust more than you. I respect you. In spite of the direction our partnership, indeed our friendship has taken. I don't expect that I will ever be as close to anyone as I was to you. You reached inside of me, Booth, and touched me in a place that I never thought I wanted touched. I never knew could be touched – metaphorically speaking. I don't believe that will ever happen for me again."_

_"You don't know that," he interrupted. He didn't want to think of her spending her life alone because he broke down her walls and walked away. That wasn't his fault. It was just bad timing. _

_"I know that if I ever did it would be years away. I don't want to wait to have a child. I believe that because of the relationship we had, I will bond with the child in a more profound way than if I use an anonymous donor."_

"_Bones …" he was shaking his head. He was so conflicted about what she was saying. It had been words he had hoped to hear from her years before - to a certain extent - but he was not in a position to return them anymore. It had been so long since he asked himself how he felt about her regardless of the circumstances. All he knew for sure was that he missed her, he had hurt her and she wouldn't be asking if it weren't extremely important to her._

"_This is not a trap, Booth. I know there are women who trap a man into their lives by using a child. That is not my intent at all. You have to know that about me."_

_"I do." He did and that made him sad too. Why wouldn't she fight for him with everything she had? Why didn't he fight for her?_

_"I don't want to hurt you, or cause any friction between you and Hannah."_

"_If only you would," Booth mumbled under his breath too softly for Brennan to hear. "Do you think I can keep this kind of thing from her?"_

"_That's up to you. You know better than I what kind of secret you can keep from the woman you have chosen to spend your life and what impact this decision will have on your relationship. I realize that just by asking the question it will have an effect - if you choose to tell her or not. Whether you agree or not, whether you choose to tell her now, at some point in the future or never those are decisions you have to make for yourself."_

"_I assume you would prefer I don't tell her."_

"_I do not consider Hannah a friend. I don't feel that she will accept this for what it is."_

"_What is it?"_

"_Something for me – between us – unrelated to her or the two of you."_

_"You maybe be the only woman in the world who could say that and mean it," he said. _

_"I still believe that what is between us is ours as naive as that sounds." She paused. "But I also understand if you don't feel you can make this decision without her input."_

"_Yeah, right" he exhaled. There was no way in hell that he and Hannah could have a rational discussion about this. There was a small part of him that wondered if she would even care._

_"I also know that this is not as simple a request as I once thought it was. I see that now."_

_"That's progress, I suppose." He ran his hand through his hair. "When do you need to know?"_

"_There is a window of fertilization in the last week of September, first of October. I would like to start the treatment then. The child will be born in late spring/early summer. It's good timing for other projects I have."_

"_Right. Right. Timing. Ok." He finished his scotch. "Ok. Well, I need some time to think about this."_

"_I understand," she said sincerely. "Thank you for considering it."_

_He started to get up to leave but sat back down. He needed to say something that he had yet to completely process himself; it probably wasn't something that Brennan needed to know or maybe it was. It had only come up a few weeks before – well came up, blown up and then was shelved. "It's interesting that you come to me with this now."_

"_How so?"_

"_Hannah and I have discussed it," he said. He bit back his anger. "We will not be having children." His voice and look had a very definitive tone. _

"_Oh Booth." She knew how much he wanted another child. She never would have asked him if she didn't think he and Hannah would have children. _

"_Hannah believes that the world is over populated and if we are to raise a child together, we should adopt."_

"_That's a very responsible attitude. I should take a lesson from her, from you both."_

"_Yeah," he said solemnly. _

_She reached over and covered his hand with hers. It felt so good to feel his skin under hers. _

_Booth turned his hand and laced his fingers through hers - had they ever been that intimate? He missed her. As much as they had fought, debated, bantered and had different world views – no one understood him like Brennan, no one would sacrifice everything for him. Could he do this for her irrespective of what it would do to him? It would surely destroy his relationship with Hannah if it ever came out. Could he live in the world knowing he had a child that he helped to create but did not help raise? Could he allow a child of his to grow up fatherless? But could he deny Brennan the opportunity to have a child - his child?_

"_I should go," he said standing up. "Thanks for the scotch."_

"_Thank you for coming."_

"_I'll call you in a day or two."_

"_Thank you." She followed him to the door. _

_They stood in front of each other for a long moment not knowing how to say goodbye. So much had passed between them. Too much for a smile and a nod. Too much for a hand shake. Enough for an embrace? Enough for a chaste platonic kiss? So much history, so many missed opportunities. How did one say goodbye after making and hearing that kind of request? _

******=E~N~D~-F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=E~N~D~-F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=E~N~D~-F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K= ****=E~N~D~-F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K=**=

"Hey Bones!" Booth called down to her from the steps. "Bones? Hello? Hey ... up here."

Brennan looked up and saw Booth on the steps. She climbed to meet him.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said as he gestured for her to sit by him.

Brennan wrapped her coat tightly around her but didn't sit down. "I was just headed back to the lab."

"Where were you coming from?"

She hesitated. "A doctor's appointment."

"Everything OK?"

"Yes. Everything is fine." She couldn't meet his eye. The images from the meeting months before were still too fresh in her mind. "Angela thinks she has identified three more of the victims."

"Great." He stood up. "I'll tag along with you. Wanted to tell you about my conversations with Stacy Landis' mother and the little I got from a CI."

Brennan's head was not in the case, nor should it have been. She was just a consultant. There was no reason for her to have gone to the crime scene that morning. She didn't need to know about the case. She was just a lab rat, but she wouldn't correct him.

"Are you warm enough?" He asked as he took his place at her side. "Really should have a scarf or some gloves if you are going to walk around outside in the winter chill."

She looked up at him. She wanted to tell him again that he had no place taking care of her. That he was not invited to that part of her life. She assumed it was because of her pregnancy, and maybe it was - or maybe it was just Booth being Booth. He was always a caretaker. "I'm fine, thank you."

Booth smiled at her. Yes, she was fine. Bones was always fine. That was her biggest problem.

**-P-L-A-N-.-A-**


	7. Chapter 7

**Plan "A": Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Chapter Seven**

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Brennan tried to slip out of the lab unseen shortly after arriving with Booth. He was busy with Angela, Hodgins and Clark, but Cam spotted her.

"Going home, Dr. Brennan?"

Brennan turned at the sound of Cam's voice. "I am."

The women had great respect for each other and had become better friends in the past year. It helped that in the last ten months Brennan relinquished her need to control all things at the lab but stayed connected and involved enough to transition the lab properly to the next generation. Cam worked very well with Perotta and Brennan didn't mind acting as just a consultant. She passed everything through either Clark or Cam. She was only ever brought in on the toughest cases and then only for her analysis, never field work. The fire at the warehouse was the first crime scene she had been to in months. The fact that she still had an office at the lab was more about logistics than about her work in the Medico-Legal unit; there were no other office available in the Jeffersonian believe it or not.

When Cam first came to the Jeffersonian and saw that Brennan was doing more than lab work she thought it was a waste of talent, like a Thoroughbred dragging a plow. Of course that meant that Cam and Booth and the rest of them were the plow horses, but there were worse things in life to be called. Cam was the one responsible for getting Booth to contact Brennan. She had no inkling that Brennan would want to do field work, nor did she think Booth would take her on as a partner - actually it was so ridiculous the thought never crossed her mind. But as she came to know Brennan she felt sorry for the Thoroughbred who never had a chance to do anything other than race.

Cam saw that all Brennan wanted was to make contact with people - as much as she denied it and was afraid of it. Booth was the conduit for that contact. How could Brennan not love him for the world he opened up for her? Was it romantic love, love between friends or partners or was it something beyond? It really didn't matter, Brennan knew so little of love - giving or receiving - it was probably all mixed up and more powerful than even she knew. In hindsight it wasn't a surprise that Brennan escaped to Maluku when it got to be too much. When fear took over her daily life it was time to put an end to it, not fear for herself, but fear for the one who had come to mean everything to her.

Booth was wrong to approach her like he did about changing the nature of their relationship. How could he expect her to shift gears like that? He knew her; he knew that change - big change - came slowly to her. To approach and move on when he was rejected (as he knew he would be) was more than rude; it was a disservice to the progress Brennan had made. It was a disservice to Booth and the very real feelings he had for her. Cam understood why he did but it was still wrong. Cam knew Booth for close to two decades. Brennan was the first and only woman that she ever believed he loved including Hannah, and Cam had seen Seeley Booth with a boat load of women. After Booth proposed to Hannah, she saw a change in Brennan. She walled off, closed off, shut down - just like she was before Booth ever entered her life. In the following six months Brennan had poked her head out of her shell again just enough to engage friends. The only person Brennan let her guard down for was her namesake, her goddaughter. Cam thought that a baby was a major step forward for Brennan. Cam actually believed that one day; Brennan might allow another man to enter her life.

"Will you be headed to Egypt tomorrow as planned?" Cam asked.

"Yes, Yes I will." She stepped forward to keep her voice down and prevent anyone else from noticing her departure.

"And you will be back in three weeks? Before Christmas?"

"Approximately, I will contact you when I have a firm date. As always if you need me for anything, please do not hesitate to contact me."

"And where are we on the warehouse fire?"

"I have given all my analysis to Dr. Edison, I'm confident that he can answer any more questions for the investigation."

Cam took another step closer. "And Booth?"

"I don't understand the question."

"He is accustomed to working with you."

"He will adapt, Dr. Saroyan, we all have to adapt."

"Yes, we do." Cam wasn't the only one holding out a thin thread of hope that Booth and Brennan might find their way back to each other but it didn't look promising. Cam reached her hand out to Brennan. "Have a safe flight. We'll be anxiously awaiting your return."

Brennan did not take Cam's hand. Instead she pulled her into a brief embrace. "Thank you, Dr. Saroyan."

Brennan slipped out. Cam saw that Booth had been observing them and snuck out behind her.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

"Will you be back tomorrow?" Booth called to Brennan as she put her bags in the trunk.

"Is there something you need?" she asked moving around to the driver's side door.

"Angela has done some great work and has opened up a few leads." He held his position at the rear of her car. "I was hoping that you would track them down with me - tonight or tomorrow. See how they pan out."

"I'm sorry," she said earnestly. "I thought I told you that I had plans to go out of town. I have some work to finish up."

"Right, Egypt and Ireland." He smiled weakly. "Thought that was the day after tomorrow."

"I moved my flight up since I am no longer needed here."

"You will always be needed here, Bones."

She blushed and looked away. She was beautiful when she blushed. Booth didn't remember her blushing in the past. "Do you have a lot of packing to do tonight? I would really like to pick your brain about this stuff. It's been a long time since I worked this kind of homicide investigation and it's a pretty big one. Don't want to screw it up."

"I'm not sure there is anything else for me to do."

"As a forensic anthropologist maybe, but you are a fine investigator – you'll pick up on clues that I didn't see, ask questions I didn't think to ask. It's why we were such a good team."

Brennan paused hoping he wouldn't use the term _symbiotic_. She didn't like to be reminded of what they had and lost.

"You could use it as fodder for your next book," he cajoled.

Brennan smiled; she felt herself being drawn to him as she had in the past. "Aren't you going to ply me with dinner?"

"If it'll help ... whatever you want ... Chinese, Thai, Italian ... I know a great Sushi place that no one else knows about."

"I was kidding, Booth."

"I'm not ... hey we have to eat and you're eating for two now."

"You know that's an old wives tale that has led many women to gain significantly more weight than they should during pregnancy and it is very difficult to shed those pounds after."

He smiled and shrugged. "So, I bring the case files and you order dinner?"

"I thought you were taking care of dinner in exchange for my help."

"Fine, I'll bring the case files and I'll get dinner. Do you have any of that 30 year old scotch left?"

Panic shot through her body. "I better not. I really do have some packing to do and my flight will be very early."

"You can eat and pack and talk to me as I work through this mess."

He was pressuring pretty hard and Brennan was feeling very uncomfortable. Brennan realized that he wanted to talk to her, but it had nothing to do with the case. She would prefer they not have the opportunity to be alone in her apartment. It would send a wrong message to any number of people including her. She closed her car door and stepped toward him. "If you want to ask me something ... or tell me something ... and it has nothing to do with this case please do. We are alone here and will not be overheard."

WOW ... Booth was caught. She was right on both counts. "Doesn't mean I don't need your help."

"You don't need me, Booth."

"I'm better with you."

He wasn't going to talk. "I should go."

"Ok Ok ... wait ... forget dinner, forget the case." He paused. There was something he needed to know. There was something she needed to know. Was the parking lot at the Jeffersonian the best place to exchange the information? No. He really wanted to just take her for a drink - but that would be out of the question for a while. He stumbled and stammered over his words. "I just need to know ... maybe I don't have a right to ask ... but I think maybe I do. It's just that ... well ... after we talked and ... that night ... you know in September ... when you asked me ... well ... we didn't talk again ... I know I should've called. I wanted to. I picked up the phone about seven dozen times, but I didn't know what to say." He ran his hands through his hair. "I know it's a lame excuse but it's the only one I have."

"You don't need an excuse. I didn't expect you to call."

"I suppose I know what happened, but I guess ... I'd like confirmation ... right? ... I mean anything could have happened, right? ... You could have changed your mind or gone a whole different way, right?"

"If you are asking me if you're the father of my child, the answer is yes."

Booth let out a huge sigh. "Ok ... Ok ... well, good ... right? That's what you wanted."

"Yes, it is. Thank you."

"No, no ... I mean you don't have to ... I just wanted to know that everything went OK ... you know according to plan ... and the fact that you are pregnant means that it did, right?"

She allowed him to keep talking.

"Ok ... well ... right ... OK ... Good ... very good." He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. "I should get back to it. Big case ... very complicated ... no good leads ... really should be working on that."

"I have every confidence in you, Booth."

"Right, thanks." He turned quickly and then turned back. "You know if you need anything ... anything at all you can call me ... ride to the airport ... Or to the doctor ... Or to paint the baby's room ... I can paint ... I'm a superior painter ... expert ... with the drop cloths, the primer and the tape ... I good with rollers, or brushes and even the sprayer ... everything ... If this FBI thing didn't work out, I was going to get a job as a painter." He smiled nervously. "So, you know ... you can call me - for anything."

"I do know that, but I probably won't ... won't call if I need anything. It's not a good idea. Better to just do this on my own ... the way I planned."

"Right ... of course ... right ... on your own." He nodded. "Stick with the plan. Ok ... well, safe flight. See you in a couple three weeks, right?"

"Right."

"OK."

Brennan watched as Booth walked away. She had never seen him so nervous. She didn't like it. He was undoubtedly regretting his decision, but it was a little late. She needed to say focused and not get lulled into anything. He was engaged to be married. He had no place in her life or in the pregnancy. If that little tête-à-tête showed her anything it was that Booth would want to be known to his child. She knew that was a possibility so it wasn't a surprise. So when he was ready it would be made known to everyone they knew including Hannah and that will have some sort of impact on their relationship. Brennan should have left town as soon as it was confirmed she was pregnant. She just wanted to get through the pregnancy on her own and establish some sort of routine for herself and the child. She was also sure of another thing. She would need to be particularly vigilant with Booth in terms of boundaries. He was a romantic at heart and would want to take care of the mother of his child. She had seen it with Rebecca. Brennan didn't want that. The more he did for her, with her, around her - the more he would be sabotaging his relationship with Hannah. And that was unacceptable. She would accept him as part of the child's life but not part of hers. She hoped her heart could make it work. She meant what she said to him - no one ever had and no one ever would touch her soul like Booth. But he made his choice, and she made hers. Maybe she should have gone with an anonymous donor.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Booth went back into the lab kicking himself for being such a jerk - and for not telling her about the break up with Hannah. It wouldn't make any difference and to be honest, the break up and Brennan's pregnancy were unrelated - completely unrelated. One hundred and eighty degrees from each other. Diametrically opposed. Booth felt something after talking to Brennan. If he had to put a word on it, it would be happy. As messed up as the situation was, he was going to be a father again. And who better to be a co-parent with than Brennan. She was rational, reasonable, logical - there wouldn't be the drama he had with Rebecca. Brennan would never refuse him access to his child. He was happy, but he was disappointed too. He wanted so much to have a baby the normal way - get married, share the pregnancy, have the baby, build a life as a family. Apparently that was not in the cards for Booth at least not any time soon.

"Hey Booth - you working this case or not?" Hodgins called over to him.

"Yeah, yeah ... what've you got?"

Angela had found something very interesting in the footage from the fire. She had crossed referenced it to several of the traffic cameras from around the warehouse for the previous few months. There were three faces that stood out. One young woman looked a lot like the sketch Angela had on victim number eight, another was of Stacy Landis and the final one was a seedy looking man of about forty.

"Print that out for me, would you?" he asked Angela. "And the other two. And how are you coming with the IDs of the other victims?"

"Working on it."

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Booth took the photo to one of the CIs he had cultivated on the task force. He was a street kid who had his hands in everything and what he didn't do himself, he saw or in some way knew about. His name was Ricky. Booth first tried to get him off the streets, but the kid wouldn't go. Booth had tried to contact him the he was giving the warehouse fire, but he was unable to locate him. Then Ricky called him.

Ricky was small, dark and feisty with a mouth on him that would get him out of trouble; of course his mouth was usually what got him into trouble. They met at a walk-up hot dog stand that was closed for the winter.

"Booth," the kid called to him from around the back.

Booth had walked up from where he parked his SUV down the block. He checked to see if he was being followed or watched and ducked around the back too.

"Did you bring it?"

Booth pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket. He always overpaid the kid. Ricky wasn't into drugs or alcohol. Booth had an idea what he spent his money on, but didn't ask. It was probably gambling. Booth had a soft spot for the kid. For some reason Ricky reminded Booth of himself at that age. They had nothing in common, but there was something about him that Booth liked.

"Cool ... cool … nice."

"So ... what've you got?"

"Me?" Ricky asked. "Thought you were going to ask me questions."

"What is this Jeopardy?" Booth grabbed for the cash which Ricky pulled away.

"Alright ... alright ... the warehouse was used as some sort of halfway house ... you know ... off the books for hookers who didn't use the proper protection ... if you know what I mean."

"You're telling me that all those women were hookers."

"Well not all ... but they were street at least." Ricky looked around. "They needed a place to hole up until ... you know."

"No I don't, that's why I'm asking."

"When they got preggers ... that was the place ... they dropped the kid."

"Why there?"

Ricky made a face. "Hey, they ain't into hooking for the health benefits, if you know what I mean ... no hospitalization and the dental sucks. Besides ... "

"Besides, what?"

"It was cash - you know - cash - money they lost when they were off the street."

"They sold their babies?"

"It's not like any of them could bring 'em up right. They'd end up in foster anyway."

Booth held up the picture of Stacy Landis. "This was not a street kid. She had a family back in Dallas."

"Come on, Booth. Don't be dumb ... that was where she was from, not where she was. Shit happens and they don't go home."

"So they sold their kids for money."

"Well, not personally ... I mean I've only heard ... there's this guy ... Jackson, Paul or Pete or Pat Jackson ... or Johnson ... I'm not sure ... anyway, he would sell his own kidneys if he thought he could make a decent buck."

"Is this the guy?" Booth held up the picture that Angela printed.

"Yeah ... yeah ... I mean I guess so ... not really in my circle, you know."

"So why would he burn down the warehouse and kill all those girls?"

"Hey, I didn't find nothing out about the fire ... you didn't ask about the fire ... you asked about the warehouse ... and that guy Jackson or Johnson or whatever -."

"His name is Ralph Kingston."

"Whatever, man ... he's the guy that does the selling ... why would he burn the place down - they were his meal ticket?"

"What about any of these girls?" Booth showed him the sketches that Angela had drawn.

Ricky shrugged. "Nah too clean for around here."

"What about her?" Booth showed him the other picture of the girl from the traffic camera.

"She could be anybody, man. I mean she looks like a lot of girls ... again, this ain't my thing."

"That's all you have for me?"

"Yeah, man ... but you know who you should talk to is Veronica ... or Velma ... or Valarie ... whatever, she's a hooker on K Street. She was there ... not too long ago ... dropped a kid and was back to work in a week. She got some bank out of it too. Anyway, she could tell you what goes on there ... don't know if she'll talk to you ... I mean ... you have to pay her. Don't be dropping my name, man. I have a rep."

"Alright, get out of here, Ricky."

Ricky checked the street.

"Hey kid ... eat something with that money OK?"

"Oh yeah, sure ... Have a reservation at Sam & Harry's in an hour." The kid rolled his eyes.

"If you get anything else ..."

"Yeah ... sure ... whatever ... see ya Booth." Ricky was gone into the night.

Booth didn't like the answers he had gotten. Street girls, in trouble compelled to sell their children to earn some money. It was horrifying. He looked back down at the picture of Stacy Landis. He was still no closer to her killer. He wondered if he ever would be.

Booth checked his watch. It was too late to call Brennan, not that he would. There was really no reason to go home. He decided he would try K Street. Was probably going to lead to nothing - hell her name probably didn't even begin with a V. He had to laugh at himself. Single for a day and he was out trolling for prostitutes.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Brennan stayed up a lot later than she wanted. She expected a phone call or a drop by from Booth. She didn't want him to come or call, but even she couldn't deny that when she finally went to bed she was disappointed he didn't. She wrote it off to hormones.


	8. Chapter 8

**Plan "A": Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Chapter Eight**

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Booth made his way to the diner. He had spent the night looking for the "V" hooker that Ricky had told him about. No luck. He felt dirty and slimy after dealing with that section of society, but he needed to eat before he went home to shower off the smell and get some much needed sleep. He almost turned around and left when he saw Sweets at his usual table, but Sweets was too quick and waved him over.

"Morning," Booth groaned as he slumped into the seat in front of Sweets.

"Rough night?" Sweets asked. "What's that smell?"

"You don't want to know." He called his order over to the waitress and pleaded for a cup of coffee.

"I can assume you were working?"

Booth glared at him.

"Or swimming in a urinal."

"Working." He took a much needed sip from his coffee. "Wasting time is more like it."

"Was Dr. Brennan with you?"

"Give it up, Sweets. Seriously. Just give it up."

Sweets sat back.

Booth's food arrived and he was able to pretend that Sweets wasn't there for a moment. Finally he looked up. "What?"

"No, nothing." Sweets pushed his plate away.

Booth needed to run something past Sweets as the FBI would certainly request his insight. "I'm going to ask for a transfer back to major crimes," he said taking another forkful of eggs.

"Interesting. Interesting. Why would you do that? It's a step down."

"It's what I do, Sweets. I'm not meant for Administration and dealing with personnel issues."

"I'd have thought that you would be grateful for the position."

"It's not me. I need to catch the bad guys for murder, not tax evasion."

"Do you imagine that Dr. Brennan will want to resume your partnership?" Again Booth glared. "She has taken on a much less active role for nearly ten months now, ever since you -."

"I know, Sweets. This isn't about Bones. It's about me and doing what I was meant to do."

"Well, your current position has more regular hours. That should be an advantage since you're getting married."

Booth swallowed a bite of toast and jelly. "Yeah, well ... not so much," he said with his mouth full.

"Not so much?"

"Hannah and I broke up."

Sweets looked over his shoulder to see Hannah walking in the door looking frazzled and upset. Though she probably did not spend the night on the streets of Washington, she clearly hadn't slept either. "Are you sure about that?"

Booth didn't have time to respond before Hannah was at his side.

"Seeley, can we talk?" she asked breathless.

Booth dropped his fork on his plate, wiped his mouth and leaned back. "Not much more to say, Hannah."

She looked over at Sweets. He got the message. "If you two will excuse me." He started to get up.

"Sit down, Sweets!" Booth ordered. "No secrets from my shrink. Anything Hannah has to say, she can say in front of you."

Sweets was very uncomfortable, but slid over to the other chair to allow Hannah to sit, something Booth had no intention of doing. She sat and Booth pushed his half eaten breakfast away in disgust.

"Seeley I know you're upset and I take responsibility for that. I want to fix this."

"Hannah look." He bit back his anger. "It was unfair for me to expect you to give up your _promising_ career to be with me. I get that."

"I want to be with you," she protested. "I want us to have a life together."

"All evidence to the contrary."

"She's here now," Sweets interjected.

Booth glared at him and turned his attention back to Hannah. "We're at different times in our lives looking for different things," he stated roughly. "It's nobody's fault." The words were fair and reasonable, but his tone and body language told a different story. It told a story of a man about to explode in anger trying to save his own ego.

"Seeley, I'm sorry. Please, give me one more chance."

"Babe, we've had plenty of chances. We have screwed up way too much for this thing to last. I have. You have. We've talked and apologized and made new plans and agreements for the future. We have done everything we should to make this thing work. In the end, I just don't see us making it one year, much less thirty years. Hell, I don't see us making it to the altar. You aren't who I want to spend my life with and what's more, I don't like who I've become with you."

"Whoa," Sweets said. "That's harsh, dude."

Booth glared at him again. "I'm not saying that it's your fault." He turned his attention back to Hannah. "But those are the facts. We need to stop wasting each other's time."

"Booth, I can see that you feeling a lot of frustration -" Sweets interrupted.

"Sweets, stay out of this."

"You told me to stay. I believe you did that for a reason," Sweets pressed.

"Fine, say what you have to say." Booth folded his arms across his chest and glared at Sweets daring him to say anything at all.

In some circles Sweets would be considered a brave man. "Can we all take a breath and calm down a little and discuss what happened. What prompted this final decision?"

Booth showed no signs of starting the conversation. Sweets looked to Hannah.

"I called the day before yesterday to tell Seeley that my assignment was extended and he told me we were through."

Booth almost laughed. "Yeah, that's exactly how it happened. Things were sunshine and roses and Big Bad Seeley through a fit when he was told that his fiancée - in name only." He turned to Sweets. "She doesn't even wear the ring. Can you believe that? So I through a fit because I was told that work was more important. Yep, just like that ... in a vacuum. A onetime event."

Sweets looked at Hannah. "Has this been a topic of discussion before?"

Hannah looked back at Booth and then to Sweets. "We have discussed me taking fewer out of town assignments, but it's very difficult to turn them down and still keep my job, keep my credibility. You have to understand that, Seeley. I would never ask you not to take a case at the FBI. During the whole Broadsky case you were physically there but shut me out -"

"I have apologized for that, and have changed because of that. Changed jobs, changed attitude, change damn near everything. How long are you going to hold that over my head?"

Sweets knew all about Booth's single mindedness during the Broadsky investigation. Sweets knew it was that case that lost Booth Brennan and the squints and his role as the liaison to the Jeffersonian. He also knew how much that case had cost Booth personally. It brought up some very dark moments and real fears that Booth had about himself. Sweets was only marginally able to help Booth through that. But he had seen dramatic changes in Booth since then. Sweets turned to Hannah and asked, "So career is very important to you."

"Yes, yes it is." She looked back at Booth. "Your career is very important to you too."

Booth again laughed. "What did I just tell you Sweets, huh? What did I just tell you before she walked in?" Sweets looked confused. "I told you that I was going to transfer back to major crimes - I was going to take a step backward because I didn't like the work I was doing. Work I took so I could have more time with MY FIANCÉE - my fiancée who had been home a grand total of nine days since September."

"September?" Something about that struck Sweets.

"Yes, my devoted Hannah and I had yet another heart-to-heart in September after talking, fighting and discussing all summer. We agreed that we were not giving enough time or attention to our relationship and recommitted to each other and promised to make every effort to make it work. Not working so great for me," Booth admitted.

"September?" Sweets asked again.

"What's wrong with me wanting a wife who is with me more than she is her lover?"

"Charlie and I aren't lovers ... any more. You know that. It was over between us long before I met you."

"Who's Charlie?" Sweets asked.

"Is that why you dragged him to the states with you?"

"Who's Charlie?" Sweets asked.

"Got him a job with you, take him with you wherever you go like a puppy dog?"

"Who's Charlie?" Sweets asked again.

"My cameraman," Hannah answered Sweets. "We're partners, Seeley. Just like you and Temperance."

"Bones and I haven't worked together in nearly a year."

"Not because of anything I said. I never asked you to give that partnership up. I was very understanding about your history."

"We didn't have a history," Booth protested.

"Well that's not strictly true -," Sweets interjected.

"Shut up Sweets."

Sweets turn to Hannah. "It's understandable that Booth would prefer that you travel less. You will be getting married soon, presumably and starting a family."

"No," Hannah said. "We talked about it and we have decided not to have children."

"Not sure I would call that a discussion," Booth protested.

"When was this? Before you got engaged?" Sweets asked.

"No ... no ... It was August or September that we made the final decision," she explained.

"You made the final decision, Hannah. I was not consulted."

"You two are not having children?" Sweets looked between both of them. He wished they were in his office so he could control the situation.

"No, we agreed that - ." Hannah stopped herself.

Booth shook his head and looked out the window.

"This was in September?" Sweets pressed.

"What difference does it make, Sweets?" Booth barked.

"It's just interesting timing, don't you think?" Sweets looked directly at Booth.

Booth finally realized where Sweets was going. "You don't have any idea what you are talking about Sweets, and it's best that you leave it alone."

"What?" Hannah asked.

Sweets braved Booth's wrath. "Hannah, did you know that Dr. Brennan is pregnant."

"What difference does that make? What does that have to do with me and Seeley?"

"Did you know that three years ago -."

"Let it go, Sweets. Just let it go." Booth warned again.

"What?" Hannah pressed.

"Three years ago Dr. Brennan asked Booth to provide the sperm for a child that she planned to raise alone."

"Temperance doesn't have a child."

"Sweets!" Booth barked again.

"No, that plan was aborted when Booth was diagnosed with a brain tumor and had to have an operation."

"You had a brain tumor?" Hannah asked in shock and amazement.

"Sweets ... do you know nothing of client patient confidentiality?" Booth demanded.

"This is common knowledge, Booth."

"Not to me." Hannah looked at Booth.

Booth looked away.

"I just find the timing of Dr. Brennan's pregnancy and your decision to not have children very ... convenient."

Hannah looked at Sweets. "You aren't suggesting that Seeley fathered Temperance's baby? That is ludicrous," Hannah declared. "He would never do that without discussing it with me." She looked back at Booth. "You would never do that." She believed that to be true but would have preferred definitive confirmation.

Booth turned to Sweets and shrugged with a smile. "You heard it here last, Sweets."

"Seeley ... right? You wouldn't do that?" Hannah pressed.

Booth uncrossed his arms and sat up. "None of that matters. What matters is that you don't want the same things I want. You are all about your career and I'm looking to settle down. It's nothing personal -right? Hell when we got together in Afghanistan you told me that you had no plans to get married ever. That you were one hundred percent committed to your career. We were just having a fling. In fact when I left you in Afghanistan, you said you would never come stateside. But you did, and I thought that meant something but it didn't. When I asked you to marry me; you said yes. I thought that meant something. It didn't. We are done Hannah. It was fun while it lasted, but it lasted too long we are just wasting each other's time. I don't want to be with you anymore. I don't love you and I don't see a future for us. Let's just walk away before we do anymore damage to each other."

Hannah sat back. She didn't recognize him anymore.

"Are we done here?" Booth looked between Sweets and Hannah. "Good, I have a murder case to solve." He got up, tossed some money on the table and left.

Sweets waited a long moment. "Hannah, are you OK?"

She wiped at her dry eyes. "I am. I really am. He's right, you know. I never wanted to get married. I'm all about my career. I thought I could change, but I can't." She looked up at the door, the last place she had seen Booth. "I guess the same could be said for Seeley. We just had to compromise too much for each other until there wasn't enough for either of us."

Don't know what possessed Sweets but he asked a question that was more than rude. "What have you compromised for Booth?" Hannah stared back at him. "Yes, I know you left Afghanistan for Washington, but that appears only to have helped your career. So, I have to wonder, what did you compromise to be with Booth? He changed his job, gave up his partner who was more than a partner, relinquished the dream of having another child, postponed a wedding that he in all earnestness proposed nearly ten months ago and tolerated your chronic absenteeism with an ex-lover for many months. How much more can you expect a man like Booth to give up before he hits a breaking point?"

"I thought you were on my side?" Hannah protested.

"I'm on the side of making decision for the correct reasons not out of anger or frustration. I see now that Booth had put a lot of thought into his decision to break things off with you. That he didn't just hit one bump in the road and bail. Sadly it came out as anger and hurt – but that is something Booth needs to work on. It's time for both of you to move on." Sweets added his money to the table for his breakfast. "Goodbye Hannah. It was a pleasure meeting you."

Hannah was left at an empty table with dirty dishes and a hole in her heart. She had just lost the best thing that ever happened to her and she wouldn't figure that out for years.

"Temperance is pregnant?" she said softly to herself. "Could Seeley do something like that and not tell me?" Regardless of where the station sent her next, Hannah had her next assignment.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Brennan boarded the plane very early in the morning. She hadn't slept well the night before and hoped to sleep on the plane - first class had its luxuries. There was an older woman sitting next to her, Brennan had no idea what gave it away but the woman asked how far along she was. Brennan gave a quick answer and then settled back to sleep. The older woman sitting next to her was working on some knitting project and the clacking of the needles was really grating on Brennan's nerves. She couldn't take anything to help her sleep so she sat up and tried to write. That gave her seatmate the opportunity to open a line of dialog.

"How far along did you say you were?"

"Eighty-four days." Brennan decided that she was not going to be able to ignore the woman so she asked, "How did you know I was pregnant?"

"It's in the eyes, dear," she said conspiratorially. "I've had seven of my own and my oldest is expecting her first child any day now. I'm flying to Egypt to be with her."

Brennan nodded. She didn't want to respond. The notion that anyone could look into someone's eyes and know that she was pregnant was ludicrous. She didn't want to talk to the woman anymore. She wanted to sleep.

"If you don't mind my saying so dear, I know that you are having trouble with the father."

Brennan again studied her wondering what evidence this woman had for making such a wild accusation.

The woman smiled and produced Brennan's latest book. "Read it cover to cover the day I picked it up. This is by far your best work, if you don't mind my saying so. This will be my second time through."

"Thank you."

"I'm a bit of a fan who has a little too much time on her hands so I ... what are the kids calling it now ... I Googled you." She smiled brightly. "I know you are unmarried and plan to stay that way, if you don't mind my saying so. I read your last Kathy Reichs book too, so I assumed that you were having trouble with the father."

Brennan just nodded at this overly familiar woman thinking she did mind her saying so.

"Does he know that you are pregnant, dear? The worst thing you can do to a man is not tell him that he has a child on the way."

Brennan didn't answer. She smiled noncommittally and turned away hoping that sleep would find her. All that was spinning in her head was about Booth, about her request, his decision, her lie of omission, and her justification: how is not as important, the results were the same. Somehow she didn't think Booth would feel the same way.

**=F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K=**

_Booth and Brennan stood in her foyer that stormy September evening. She had just asked him to father her child with no strings attached. He had yet to agree but was considering it. Brennan was grateful that he hadn't said no immediately._

"_I should go," Booth said standing up. "Thanks for the scotch."_

"_Thank you for coming."_

"_I'll call you in a day or two."_

"_Thank you." She followed him to the door. _

_They stood there awkwardly for a long moment making momentary eye contact not knowing how to say goodbye. So much had passed between them. Too much for a smile and a nod. Too much for a hand shake. Enough for an embrace? Enough for a chaste platonic kiss? So much history, so many missed opportunities. Would they miss this one too? How did one say goodbye after making that kind of request? _

"_It was good to see you again, Bones."_

"_Yes, yes … good seeing you." She pulled his coat off the back of the door. "Please be careful out there, it's quiet a rain storm."_

"_Wind is pretty bad too. Gale force they are saying."_

_She nodded. He awkwardly pulled her into an embrace. She slipped her hands in under his coat and jacket, up his back and repositioned herself such that they held each other in a full body embrace. He sunk into her arms. Neither one wanted to let go, they had let go of so much already. She was the first to relax her hold on him but remained close. He followed suit but stepped back. Their eyes locked as they used to years ago with more unspoken words between them. Outside the storm raged. There was a shock of lightening that made the lights flicker, then a deafening clap of thunder. It jolted them both to action. He leaned in toward her, she toward him. Their lips met softly and held; appreciating the moment and the physical contact. She parted her lips, he did likewise and they kissed, deeply and profoundly as they never had allowed themselves before. He ended it too quickly and looked down into her eyes; he saw love reflected in them. _

_"I should go," he whispered as he traced her lips with his thumb and combed his fingers back through her hair as if he were trying to memorize the look in her eyes and the feel of her in his arms._

_She couldn't speak. She nodded her understanding but did not step back. Her hands were on his waist, she pressed her fingers into his back pulling him toward her ever so slightly. He needed no further encouragement. Their lips met again, tongues tangled, hands explored and heart rates quickened. The notion of him leaving was forgotten._

_Though the storm raged most of the night - lightening, thunder, wind, rain and hail - Booth and Brennan made their own weather. There love making was not frenetic, electric or loud - like the storm. It was slow, sensual, building to a pinnacle, crashing down over them and then ebbing back only to build again - like waves swelling and crashing in on the shore. It was profound and life altering. They didn't forget who they were, or what they were doing - they were both very engaged and appreciated what the encounter meant and didn't mean. They couldn't blame the scotch or long delayed passion. There was no confusion or misunderstanding. Booth and Brennan were braving the world's disapproval, compromising their values and making love - the deepest, most sincere kind of love. _

_By dawn, Booth had not slept, but rested with her in his arms. The feel of her body next to his was nothing like what he had imagined years before. The weight of it, the softness of her skin, the way she moved under him, over him, next to him; he wanted to remember every detail. Brennan did not sleep either. She took time to explore his body, touching every bunch of muscles, curve of bone and scar that marked his history. She had observed him for years and now she was finally allowed to experience him without restraint. She took full advantage._

_As dawn crept over the horizon, the storm long gone, Booth stirred. He should have felt guiltier than he did - but he made no attempt to justify his actions even to himself. He pulled from her embrace and dressed silently as she watched. She did not feel guilt either, but intellectually she knew she should have. He sat down on the bed next to her and smoothed her hair back away from her face and looked deeply into her eyes. _

_"I'm sorry Temperance. This was unfair to you and to me and to the other people we have in our lives."_

_"I have no regrets," she said honestly._

_"No, I will never regret tonight ... but you know that -."_

_"It can't happen again," she finished for him. "I understand."_

_He leaned down and kissed her. "I want you to have my ... my stuff. I'll do whatever you need. Another donation if the other stuff is not -."_

"_Viable."_

"_Right. Whatever is best ... best for you." He kissed her one last time taking his time. "You're going to be a great mother."_

_"Thank you," she said as the tears dripped from her eyes. "And ... Thank you."_

_He took one last look as the yellow light of day cast a warm glow over her face. He smiled weakly and got up. _

_When he reached the door she called out to him. "I loved you, Booth. I want you to know that."_

_His face flushed. His eyes filled with tears. "I loved you too." With that he was gone._

**=E~N~D~-F~L~A~S~H~B~A~C~K=**

Brennan startled awake.

- Still on the plane.

- Still the clacking of the knitting needles.

- Still the old woman prattling on.

She lay back down hoping to drift back again to that sweet, sweet night.

The memory of that fateful night was still upon her. She could conjure up his smell, how he felt, how he sounded, how he breathed, how she felt as if it had just happened. She rarely allowed herself to indulge in such wistful decadence. She knew that it was a onetime occurrence and she wanted to remember every moment even the painful fact that he was only hers for those few hours on a dark and stormy night. It was the first time in her life that she had made love with a man with whom she was in love. Booth had been right all those years ago. Making love was better than sex. It was a miracle - two did become one greater being. She was grateful to have experienced that once in her life even if that meant she would never experience it again.

She remembered her seatmates warning: The worst thing you can do to a man is not tell him that he has a child on the way.

Booth knew. Booth knew that she was pregnant. But he didn't know that the child was conceived with no outside assistance. She could never tell him that. He could never know. Donating sperm was one thing, but actually creating life in passion and love was quite another - so much more than an emotional connection - at least according to Booth. Brennan was beginning to see it that way too.

She tried to convince herself that the lie was necessary though lying was never the best course of action. She was sure he was guilt ridden over his infidelity and to know that that night was the night that their child was conceived would mean that he would have a living, breathing reminder of his infidelity for the rest of his life. She couldn't tell him. It was too much of a secret for him to hide, so she would guard it for him. She would protect him. He had done so much for her; she could suffer with that knowledge alone for him.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Booth stood in the shower letting the hot water pound down against his aching muscles.

_You aren't suggesting that Seeley fathered Temperance's baby? That's ludicrous. You would never do that. ... Seeley ... right? You wouldn't do that?_

Booth turned and allowed the water to pound down on his face and chest.

Ever since that night in September, rain or water showering down made him think of Brennan. Making love with her was so different from any other woman in his life - he had to know that would be true; she was so different. Typically for Booth the first time was wild and frenetic, full of laughter and awkwardness and repeated as often as time and stamina would allow - quantity making up for lack of finesse. Subsequent sex in his relationships was less awkward but typically just as frenetic. He could tell when a relationship was coming to the end. The sex lost its fervor – it became routine, mechanical, boring. It had been that way with Hannah for months on the rare occasions that they were together. As for making love and daring the laws of physics – that happened only a handful of times in his life; once with Rebecca after he found out she was pregnant, once with Hannah under the fig tree and a few others that were memories he saved for himself.

That night with Brennan was one of those times - the best of those experiences. There was laughter and lust too. But being with her, holding her, caressing her, kissing her was overwhelming for all his senses. He couldn't get enough. And to be held, caressed, kissed by her was more arousing than he imagined. She was so open to him, engaged, passionate. Years ago he assumed that she would be the aggressor in bed, taking control, being in charge as she did in all other aspects of her life, but that was not true. She led, she followed; she allowed herself to receive and gave herself permission to give wholeheartedly. He had never seen the whole Brennan before - nothing held back, nothing checked, nothing rationalized or analyzed to the point of meaninglessness. She was the whole woman he always imagined her to be. She was magnificent.

The water started to run cold. He turned it off, stepped out and wiped the steam off the mirror. He looked at his foggy reflection for a long moment. He was trying to feel guilty for what he had done; he had been trying to feel guilty for months, but it wouldn't come. Not only did he cheat on his fiancée, something that he never thought he was capable of, but he allowed another woman to have his baby without a thought of what it would do to his relationship with the fiancée. He would have married Hannah and never told her. At least that was his plan. He would keep that secret for Brennan - for his partner - for her. He would allow her to raise his child and he would be no part of it because that is what she wanted. He could do that for her. He could sacrifice that much for Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian Institution - his partner, the one women he truly loved but could never have.

Why? Why couldn't he have her? Why couldn't they figure it out? Why didn't he fight for her?

Hannah for starters.

Hannah came back about a week after that night with Brennan. In that week Booth convinced himself that the relationship was worth saving. The fact that he cheated should have told him that it was beyond hope but he tried anyway. He and Hannah had a very long, very honest conversation – not that honest. He wanted to tell her about Brennan's request, but just didn't. He almost told her about making love with Brennan but couldn't. It wasn't Hannah's business - or so he told himself. He should have told her. What was the point in continuing his relationship with Hannah if he wasn't honest and clearly untrustworthy? But he stayed and tried again to make it work only to find three months later that nothing had changed. He would not have the life he wanted with Hannah. It was time to end it without regret or remorse. Did it have anything to do with seeing Brennan at Thanksgiving and then again on this case? Did it have anything to do with the fact that she was actually pregnant? Did it have anything to do with the fact that Booth could not erase the marks Brennan left on him as colleague, partner, friend and lover? Booth convinced himself that it didn't.

How long would it take to get over Hannah? Nanoseconds. They hadn't been together in a very long time. It was easy to pull the plug and move on.

How long before he could once again pursue Brennan? So much damage had been done between them. So much wasted time. Was there a way to move past that? Was there any hope for them? She loved him, she told him that – was it past or present or was it just something to say after that incredible night they shared. She was having his child - didn't matter that it was by artificial insemination. She was having his child because she loved him, because he touched her soul. He loved her – he always did. That was one thing that never changed. He ignored it, he accepted that they were not going to make it happen, but that never changed the love. They could work it out. It would take time, but he had to believe that they hadn't lost everything. They had a child to consider. They could work it out.


	9. Chapter 9

**Plan "A": Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Chapter Nine**

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

After a paltry five hours of fitful sleep, Booth finally pulled himself out of bed and headed back to work. It was late, close to five-thirty, so he didn't bother with the suit and tie - a major no-no in the organized crime unit – as were his funky ties, colorful socks and anything other than the standard issue FBI belt buckle. The FBI didn't actually issue a belt buckle, but there were standards. At the office Booth had a mountain of paper work that he had to sift through, several reports that he needed his approval. There were two personnel reviews that were due before Thanksgiving and he had yet to approve the holiday leave for his team. He hated everything about his new job, and soon he was going to do something about it.

He was in his office for over an hour when his assistant, Randall Wilcox, stuck his head in. "There is a ... a um ... woman, lady ... female here to see you, sir."

Booth didn't want to play games. "Does she have a name or a reason for being here?"

"She said you called her ... that you requested her services."

Booth was too annoyed. "Send her in," he said dismissing Wilcox.

A moment later Booth looked up due to the overpowering aroma of sticky sweet flowers and cigarettes. In his door way stood a very tall, very thin woman with legs that went on for days. She wore three inch spike heeled red patent leather thigh high boots that were scuffed and well worn. Her mocha legs - sticking out over the top of the boots - were naked leading up to a tiny black skirt that left nothing to the imagination. Her ample bosom was covered with a black lacy brazier, thin off-white camisole and a short faux leather jacket - also red. Her lips were bright pink as were her cheeks and nails. Her hair was big and white - not blonde, white. She was not pretty, but she certainly did turn heads.

"I understand you were looking for me," she drawled in a thick southern accent. "If I'd known how incredibly hot you were I'd have come sooner." She strode into the office and around Booth's desk. He sat back. She lifted one long leg over his lap and sat down on the desk in front of him. As was said, the skirt left nothing to the imagination. "I'm Java, Special Agent Booth, what's your pleasure?"

Booth was not attracted to this woman in the slightest, but he liked her ... approach. "Thank you for coming," he kept his eyes on hers rather than the display she had opened to him. "I'm not sure I was looking for you - specifically. How did you get my name?"

She tucked her long fingers into the band on her skirt and pulled out a card. She flipped it over and handed it to Booth. It was one of his cards; probably one he handed out that morning looking for Ricky's "V" hooker. "I don't typically make house calls, but for you I'd make an exception." She nudged his thigh with her boot. "You wouldn't be my first special agent." She leaned over and placed her lips very close to Booth's ear. "How can I help you, Special Agent In Charge Seeley Booth?"

Booth leaned back; Java sat back and opened her legs wider. "Just some information, Miss Java."

"Just Java baby ... I'm not much of a talker." She rubbed her knee on Booth's leg. Her stomach growled.

"How about I take you out for dinner, Java?"

She leaned forward forcing her breasts to strain at the black lace. She ran a finger down his cheek to his jaw and up to his lips. "Will you promise not to be a gentleman?"

"Just dinner," he smiled. "And a little conversation."

She leaned back, placed her boot on the chair next to him and put her hands on the desk behind her thrusting her chest toward the ceiling, the lace crying for release. "I'm not sure how to say this that won't be insulting to you ... but I'd rather not be seen with you, Special Agent Booth." Her stomached growled again.

"I understand. I wouldn't want to hurt your reputation." He removed her foot from his chair and slid out to standing. The view was getting too much for him and the gallon of perfume was closing his windpipe. "Then we will stay here, order in and talk." He stepped over to the door and called for Wilcox. "Can I get a couple of sandwiches and sodas sent in?" He moved to close the blinds on one window.

"Sir?"

"You know Ham and Cheese on rye, turkey on white bread ... sandwiches. And a coke. diet coke, sprite ... something. Maybe some soup too."

"Sir, is she a witness?" Wilcox asked with his voice low. "If you are to interrogate her, might I suggest the interrogation room?"

Booth clapped him on the shoulder. "Too many eyes in the interrogation room, Randall." He closed the blinds on other window.

"Sir?"

"Just the sandwiches." He closed the door, locked it and then closed those blinds on the door. Booth and Java were safely alone out of the view of the prying eyes of the FBI.

When Booth turned, Java was standing up. She had pulled her wig off revealing short cropped dark hair that was much more attractive. If she were dressed differently she might actually be attractive. She put her boot up on the desk and unzipped the long zipper and pulled her foot out. She groaned as she set her foot gingerly on the floor. She did the same for the other boot. She looked up at Booth who had been watching her transformation. "I'm getting too old for this shit," she said dropping her southern accent. "Can I sit down?" she asked.

"Please," he motioned for one of the chairs at his table.

She walked gingerly over to the chair and sunk down and immediately started rubbing her feet. She couldn't have been more than twenty or twenty-one but she moved like an old lady. Booth noticed that she shivered and tried to warm her hands by rubbing them together. He reached behind the chair for his gym bag. He pulled out sweatshirt and sweatpants with big yellow FBI written across the back and butt. "Put these on," he instructed. He was glad that they were clean, though he didn't imagine that Java would care. He turned his back so she could change in relative privacy.

"You're kidding right with the not looking bit? What're you a choir boy?"

"Just being polite."

"Done," she said tossing her skirt and bra toward him. He snatched them out of the air and put them on the chair. "How about some socks or a little heat in here."

He pulled some socks out of the bag and tossed them at her. "Uncle Sam regulates the heat."

"Yes he does, doesn't he?"

"So, Java, why don't we start with your real name?"

"On or off the record?"

"Sweetheart, we are so far off the record ..." He joined her at the table. "I'm risking my professional reputation being locked in here with you."

"Funny, so am I." She laughed. "Maggie, Maggie Carroll - from Prescott, Arizona. I understand you want to know about the warehouse and that bastard Ralph Kingston."

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

After an extended layover in Paris of several hours and two more plane changes, Brennan checked into her suite at the Four Seasons in Cairo. She had every intention of heading to the museum to get started but she was exhausted. She opted for room service, a bath and a good night's sleep. She contacted the people at the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities to tell them of her changed plans; they honestly weren't expecting her until the next day. She unpacked and set up her laptop. She changed into one of the big soft robes provided by the hotel and called for room service. There was time before she could sink into the deep soaking tub so she checked in with Angela via Skype.

"Hey Sweetie, how was the flight?"

"Flight was fine," Brennan lied.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she lied again.

"Well you look like hell, Sweetie. Take a bath and go to bed."

"Exactly what I'm planning to do. I want to get an update on the case." Brennan hadn't called for a case update in months. If they wanted her they called. She was no longer invested in the outcome.

"And you called me? Sweetie, I love to hear from you, but if you really want to hear about the case you need to call Booth." There was a brief pause before Angela jumped back in. "If you want to hear about Booth ... well, that's a different story"

"Angela," she warned.

"Booth's a free agent again," Angela blurted out. "Blondie was given her walking papers."

Brennan felt that the quiet safe world she had rebuilt for herself over the last ten months was going to be blown open again and there was nothing she could do to stop it even if she wanted to.

~!~

Angela and Brennan's friendship grew deeper in the last ten months. Angela was the only one who knew how hurt Brennan was about the proposal, not the proposal itself, but that fact that Booth didn't have the balls to tell his partner himself. Angela cited some reasons for Booth's behavior that Brennan couldn't accept namely that Booth still had feelings for Brennan. Brennan set Angela straight on that account and revealed to her what happened the night she told Booth that she made a mistake. Even Angela's fast talking constant cheering for B&B was derailed in light of Booth statement: Hannah is not a consolation prize. Angela was also the only one Brennan confided in when Booth went off after Broadsky by himself. Brennan needed someone to talk to about her fears for Booth and how helpless she felt and Angela's was the safest most understanding ear. There were also some odd complications with Angela's pregnancy that she was dealing with and Brennan's objective rational levelheaded thinking was exactly what Angela needed to offset her own erratic fears and Hodgins overly optimistic view.

Angela was the one who broached the subject of Brennan having a baby. She saw how Brennan was with her daughter and saw how much love Brennan had to give with no outlet. She felt that it would be a long time before Brennan ever opened herself up to a man after the disastrous experience with Booth, but that a baby would be a way to move on and live her life. She was surprised at the positive reaction she got to that suggestion. So the women started discussing and planning. It was Angela who mentioned using Booth's sperm. It was never meant to be taken seriously but it got Brennan thinking.

Brennan did not tell Angela about her encounter with Booth in September. Nor did she tell Angela that she asked and he authorized the use of his previous donation. Angela didn't know that Brennan went back and forth for three weeks trying to decide if she should use it or go with an anonymous donor. As far as Brennan was concerned nothing had changed. They were still not partners, friends or lovers - not again. So there should be no issue, no drama, no irrational emotions to prevent her from using Booth's _stuff_. But she had to admit that her reason for wanting to were pretty unquantifiable and therefore emotional and irrational. What confused Brennan in those weeks between the encounter and her appointment with the doctor was that late at night or in quiet moments when she was alone, she felt his touch, his kiss, his body pressed up against hers. She could hear him breathing and groaning in her ear. At times she could still catch his scent - not the new scent, the one he had when he was with her long ago. It was very distracting and more than a little confusing but she couldn't discuss any of that with Angela. She found herself picking up the phone to call him a dozen times but there was nothing left to say. He didn't love her anymore; he had moved on. He was in love with Hannah; they were engaged and would be married soon. Brennan knew about the social taboo that extramarital sex had even though she didn't feel that way herself. Irrespective of her feelings, she knew Booth had a strict Catholic upbringing and would be experiencing a great deal of guilt over their night together. The look of regret on his face was also something that came upon her in the quiet moments too usually just as she drifted off to sleep.

_"I'm sorry Temperance. This was unfair to you and to me and to the other people we have in our lives."_

He said he didn't regret what they had done, but there was no other way to interpret that statement, his expression as he left and the fact that he didn't call afterward. Brennan meant what she said; she had no regrets, but kept his confidence. It was with that in mind, Booth's regret, that caused Brennan to rethink using Booth's donation. If he regretted one night of passion given their long history, he was more than likely going to regret the decision he made in the heat of that passion to allow her to _use his stuff_. She didn't want that complication.

When the day came to go to the clinic, Brennan had decided to go with an anonymous donor. There were still seven more days before she had to make the final decision, but she felt that it was a more prudent course of action. Angela went with her that day for the initial exam and discussion about the prep and procedure. Brennan had a blood test and urine test among other standard tests. It was decided that the treatment would start in a week and Brennan would take the fertility drugs to facilitate her chances of getting pregnant. Brennan and Angela laughed and celebrated the new little life that would come into their group. While they were out, Brennan got a call from her doctor.

"Temperance, this is Dr. Choi. I understood that you have not been sexually active for several months."

Brennan froze. "That is correct."

"Well you're either carrying the next Christ child or you're lying to me."

"Excuse me?"

"Temperance, you're pregnant."

Brennan's knees went out from under her and she nearly sank to the floor. She was able to recover enough to stay standing by holding on to the bar.

"You tell me, but it looks like you are three weeks along," she stated. "Make an appointment with your ObGYN and congratulations."

"Thank you Dr. Choi."

Brennan hung up. When she got back to the table Angela had ordered some shots. "Hey Sweetie – drink up – you won't be able to do this for a long time." Brennan lifted the glass and touched Angela's but didn't drink. "That's bad luck, Sweetie."

Not bad luck at all. An overwhelming sense of calm came over Brennan. She was pregnant. She was going to have a little baby. The decision about the father was taken away from her. Brennan didn't believe in fate or divine intervention. She knew Angela would be thrilled to know that the child was conceived in the heat of passion, but Brennan kept that to herself and pretended to go forward with the procedure. It never occurred to her that she should tell Booth. He never needed to know and Brennan was satisfied with the correctness of that decision. For the next two months Brennan was unusually satisfied and she actually allowed herself to be happy and optimistic about her future. That lasted until Thanksgiving Day.

Seeing Booth and Hannah together and discussing a wedding on Christmas or Valentine's Day bothered her more that she expected it to. As long as Booth was out of her daily life, she could be happy. But then her private bliss was blown apart by Booth working a case with them and Sweets attention to detail. She knew she was going to have to keep Booth at bay but since he was single again, she suspected that that would be extremely difficult. There was a nagging voice in the back of her mind that told her that Booth had ended things with Hannah because of her pregnancy. That he would turn his attention back toward Brennan out of some mixed up notion that because she was carrying his child that he would want to be with her. She couldn't allow that. Brennan was no consolation prize either.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

"My name is Maggie, Maggie Carroll - from Prescott, Arizona. I understand you want to know about the warehouse and that bastard Ralph Kingston."

Booth placed the sketches that Angela had done for the eight victims out in front of Maggie. It was obvious that she recognized them all.

Over the next hour and a half Maggie did what she could to give Booth information about each of the women - girls really. In some cases she knew a great deal about them. In others she just knew the name she was given. She told Booth a story of girls in trouble that had nowhere to turn. Most of them were on drugs, homeless, scared to death. Some were in trouble with the law; some just didn't want to be found. She pointed to one girl - victim number five - said her name was Cherry and she was hiding out from her husband who had threatened to kill her when he found out she was pregnant.

She went on to talk about Kingston. He was an opportunist - Maggie had a few more descriptors but essentially that was it. He was a grifter, conman, thief. He was into everything but drugs. He was small time and people rarely took notice of him. A year or so back he had found several girls squatting in the warehouse. He told them that he could find good homes for their children, better homes than what Child Services would find. He could promise them five thousand dollars. That was more money than they had ever seen. Of course he was selling the babies for ten to twenty thousand dollars. Word got around and girls from as far away as Philadelphia or Atlanta would make their way up there to have their kid and collect the cash. Of course staying at the warehouse was expensive. Kingston was providing food and his services to find their babies homes. The girls left with less than a grand in their pocket. There was no recourse. Who were they going to call, the FBI?

"Were you there, Maggie?"

"No. Do I look stupid enough to allow myself to get knocked up?" She motioned to ask permission to smoke, but Booth couldn't allow that. "No, I was never there, but I knew those girls and countless others who slipped in and out of there. You want to see how bad the economy is - you should've seen these girls. Do you know how low you have to sink into the mire to sell your baby? To give up a life that you created?"

Booth felt a twinge that had no place in the investigation. "What happened at the warehouse?"

"I don't know for sure; only heard rumors from a girl who wasn't there at the time. She had gone for a walk or something."

"What's her name?"

"Shelly, but that ain't her real name."

Booth showed her the picture from the video footage of the crowd during the fire. "Is this her?"

"Yeah, but I don't know where she is now - so don't ask."

"What did she tell you?"

Maggie pulled victim number eight out of the pile. "Kat ... they called her Krazy Kat. She was not right, you know. Not right in the head. She was into shit - crack and worse. She's been pregnant since I first heard about her. Had at least two or three in the last three years and was pregnant again. She was always mouthing off about killing herself or Kingston or just about anyone who looked at her funny. I guess she wasn't kidding."

"Do you know that for a fact? Do you know that she murdered the others?"

"I know that Kingston shot her in the head before he lit the place on fire - not that I have any proof - the kind you types like. I know that he should be put down like a rabid dog for taking advantage and not protecting these girls." She touched Stacy Landis's picture. "Some of these girls were my friends and they didn't deserve to be burned alive."

Booth touched her arm. "I know this does not make any of this right, but all of them were dead before the fire got to them."

"Well that's something, I guess." She leaned back and studied Booth's face for a minute. "You know why I'm here, don't you? You know that if it gets around that I told you about Kingston, my life won't be worth spit." Booth nodded. "I'm blowing this pop stand ... headed for warmer weather. Headed out tonight. You take care of Kingston. He'll set up shop somewhere else. I ain't saying he's ain't providing a service, but he killed those girls as if he were holding the gun himself. He needs to be taken out of this game for good."

"Ok."

Maggie stood up. "Great, my work here is done. You didn't hear any of this from me, right Special Agent Seeley Booth?"

He nodded.

She pulled at the sweatshirt he had given her. "I'm keeping these." She nodded to the wig and other clothes she had discarded. "You can have those. Java has left the building." She laughed.

Booth took out his wallet and pulled all but twenty dollars out of it and handed it to Maggie.

"Not necessary," she said. "But if you want a little before I go we can work something out."

"Take it," he pushed the money at her. He also took a card off his desk and gave it to her. "You need anything, anytime, anywhere ... give me a call. I'll see what I can do." He grinned. "Special Agent In Charge, Seeley Booth."

"Right." She hiked up the leg of the sweats, zipped her boot back up, and dropped the sweats back down. She did the same with the other leg. She stood before him in his FBI sweats and red spike patent leather boots sticking out of the bottom. The transformation was complete. She was Maggie Carroll from Prescott Arizona. He didn't know why but he thought of the Wizard of Oz and the ruby slippers.

"No place like home, eh Dorothy?"

"Home is where you sleep, Agent Booth."

"Do you have family you want me to contact?"

"Family is who you love," she said sadly. "Got nothing to say to those people that they would want to hear ... but thanks for asking."

She strode out of his office with her head held high. Wilcox stuck his head in and saw her clothes strew around the room. Booth laughed at the kid. "How that BOLO for Ralph Kingston?"

"Nothing yet, sir."

"Go home, Wilcox."

Booth sat down at his desk and turned his back to the door. His credenza was full of pictures. Not one of Hannah, but a great one of Brennan and Parker at the circus. He hadn't noticed that picture in months. He picked it up and studied it. "Home is where you sleep," he repeated. "Family is who you love."

He checked his watch. What time was it in Cairo?

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**


	10. Chapter 10

**Plan "A": Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Chapter Ten**

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Brennan woke early - late for Egypt time. She was still suffering from jet lag. The food, the bath and the big fluffy bed with Egyptian cotton worked wonders for getting her back on track. As she was leaving for the museum, she discovered that her phone had lost the charge in its battery. It must have died somewhere in the night. She left it in the hotel to be charged. It didn't matter much anyway, she had her laptop and people usually contacted her via email or webcam.

Angela's piece of gossip affected her but it changed nothing about what she was doing. She had commitments, she had responsibilities. The reality of the situation was that Booth was probably only being nice to her because they were working the case. His anxiety was undoubtedly due to the fact that they hadn't worked a case together in over ten months. They never officially ended their partnership; it wasn't discussed. And yes, he probably had some initial reaction to the news of her pregnancy, but he would get over it. The break up with Hannah more than likely had nothing to do with Brennan or her pregnancy. She was convinced by time she was stateside again it would go back the way it was. Booth back on his task force, Brennan consulting and there would be no occasion for their paths to cross. It was what she expected. It was what she wanted. Their paths had diverged, they would cross again occasionally, and they might even parallel depending on Booth's relationship with the child, but the idea or hope that they would be on the same path again was not rational.

Sadly working with him again made her really start missing him again – the old him, the partner, the way they used to be working a case, discussing and debating everything from religion to pie. She had her first craving the day before Thanksgiving. It was for blueberry pie. She didn't indulge it, but it made her smile nostalgically.

She had no sympathy, no empathy, no feelings at all for Booth, Hannah or the demise their relationship. She had no opinion nor did she care to know what went wrong. It just added more proof that relationships were transitory, ephemeral, fleeting; that emotions changed with time and that the idea of committing to anyone for a lifetime was a promise that no one could make. The only bond that was literally forever was between parent and child. Once she had accepted Max back into her life, and accepted that though his actions were confusing and hurtful at times; his love for her was constant as was hers for him. As she was dealing with the loss of her partnership, she was witnessing Angela and her baby. Brennan wanted that connection with another living soul.

Things happened pretty fast the February before but by the end of those twenty-eight days, she had lost her partner, a friend, Hannah, and a woman she had come to respect and admire, Caroline Julian. Brennan accepted that her partner needed time and space to deal with Caroline's death but didn't truly believe the partnership was over. She didn't accept that until Broadsky had been captured and Booth did not return to major crimes. As for losing her friend, Hannah, that was Brennan's choice. There were few times in her life when Brennan made a conscious choice to cut someone out of her life. Typically people she knew just drifted away. Of course the people that she listed as friend could be counted on one hand. With Hannah however she decided to end the relationship and she did that in defense of Booth. Hannah never questioned it so there was no need to tell her why. The loss of Caroline Julian was devastating for everyone in different ways. Booth naturally took it the worst as he felt responsible. He completely walled off and internalized everything. It didn't need to be that way; the partners could have helped each other work through that loss and tracked Broadsky down together. Brennan felt the same sense of helplessness after Miss Julian's death as she did with the gravedigger. But there was no way she could approach Booth, he wouldn't allow it. It was all water under the bridge. Maybe one day Booth and Brennan would talk about that time, apologies would be made but the damage was already done.

Brennan has been working for six to seven hours and was contemplating going back to the hotel when she was told she had a visitor. Brennan had made several connections over the various times she was working at the museum and thought nothing of someone coming by to see her. She cleaned up and went to meet her guest.

"Hello Temperance," Hannah Burley called to her as Brennan entered the main lobby.

Several feelings flashed though Brennan, but she checked them all and showed Hannah something more than disinterest.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Booth turned his back on his desk and his paperwork. So much was spinning in his head. He needed it to slow down. He still hadn't found Shelly, the girl from the scene or Ralph Kingston. Identifying the rest of the victims was slow going but at least he had narrowed down the people he should ask. He was also checking the records for anyone who had been picked up for prostitution in the past few years to see if he could make an ID. It was painstaking work. He was using Angela as much as he could, but nothing beat just good old detective work. But he needed a break. On his credenza was a picture of Parker when he was five; Booth's favorite picture of him. It was nothing special, but the smile on his son's face full of glee and wonderment was inspiring to him. Of all the ill Booth had done and seen in the world, he was still part of creating life.

He thought back to that time with Rebecca when she got pregnant. They weren't getting a long that well; headed for a break up. She didn't like his job, his hours, the company he kept or his habits. Booth was gambling pretty steady back then and didn't like being nagged. They weren't exactly living together but he spent most of his time at her house. He came home early one day and found the brown paper bag from the drug store on the table. To find a pregnancy test inside the bag was a bit of a shock. His first thought was to run or to pretend he didn't see it, but that only lasted a minute. He found Rebecca in the bedroom. She was just sitting on the bed rocking. She wasn't crying but she was rocking. They talked about the possibility and how and when it could have happened. There was no question on the paternity. Before they could discuss anything else, they needed to find out if she was indeed pregnant. She took the test and they waited together on the bed holding hands. All kinds of thoughts flashed through Booth's mind but the only one that stuck was that he wanted to be a father and he wanted to be the best damn father he could be to prove that his old man didn't hold dominion over him. He also realized that he wanted the home, the family, the wife, the kid and the dog. He was earnest in his proposal and he was earnest when he said that it didn't matter if she was or wasn't; he wanted to marry Rebecca. If she wasn't pregnant then they could start trying. Her refusal was quick and decisive. She did not want to be one of those women who had to get married nor did she want to be one of those women that gave up her dreams just because she got pregnant. Booth did not take the rejection well. He was absent during most of the pregnancy licking his wounded ego. They reconnected about a week before Parker's birth but they were at odds during Parker's first four years. Booth regretted that. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

There was a knock on his open door. Booth looked up to see Sweets standing in his doorway. "Can we talk?" Sweets asked.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

"Hannah, what are you doing here?" Brennan asked.

"I thought we should talk," she said as if they had had a falling out over something minor and needed to make amends.

"I'm rather busy," Brennan stated.

"This won't take long, let's take a walk."

Brennan led her out of the building into the small gardens in front. The gardens were teaming with tourists but Brennan and Hannah found a bench away from people. Brennan waited for Hannah to speak.

"You have done a lovely job with the museum. I was here a year ago during the unrest. It was devastating."

"I have helped; the accolades go to the curator." Brennan was in no mood to deal with Hannah's false praise. "You didn't come here to talk about the museum."

"No, I didn't." She laughed a little. "I'm not really sure why I'm here. When I boarded the plane I knew, but now it seems impetuous."

Brennan stood up. "Then I will let you be on your way."

"I'm sorry we lost our friendship," Hannah blurted out. "I should have been more sensitive to your feelings after the engagement."

Brennan was not about to discuss her thoughts or feelings about something that happened so long ago.

"You have heard that Booth and I have broken up."

Brennan nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Are you?"

"What are you expecting me to say?"

"Nothing, nothing ... please sit down."

"I really have a lot of work to do."

"It won't take long," Hannah urged again.

Brennan sat down.

"I understand you're pregnant, congratulations," she said with false joy. "I admire your determination to have a child by yourself."

"There are over fourteen million single parent households in the United States alone. Eighty-four percent are headed by women, and thirty-five percent of those have never been married. It's hardly uncommon."

"Still it's not the norm." Hannah flipped her hair back in that way that annoyed Brennan from the moment they met. "But you are not the norm, are you?"

"I am still unclear as to why you are here."

"Sweets said something yesterday ... he disclosed something that happened years ago that I had no knowledge of. He said that you had originally contemplated having a child three years ago and had asked Seeley to be the father." Brennan nodded but didn't feel that needed clarification. "I really had no idea how close you and Seeley were. He told me that he had feelings for you and you for him, but that it didn't work out and you both had moved on."

"Do you have a question?"

"Did you use Seeley's donated sperm from three years ago to impregnate yourself and if so did you do it without Seeley's knowledge?"

"Why is this within your purview? If you and Booth are no longer engaged, what difference could it make?"

"It would make some difference. Seeley and I have been struggling in our relationship for quite some time. I knew he was frustrated and unhappy with my absence, but I believe I have a right to know if he agreed to such a scheme without discussing it with me. It might have impacted his decision to end our relationship."

"This is a conversation you should have with Booth."

"He won't talk to me."

"I can't help you with that."

Hannah leaned back and studied Brennan for a long moment. "We used to be friends, you and I. What happened between us? Were you hurt that Seeley chose me?"

Brennan bristled but steeled her spine. "You and I were trying to form a friendship. My motivation was to forge a relationship with you because you were important to my partner. We had little in common and while I found your life and exploits interesting, were it not for Booth, I would not have pursued a friendship with you. I found you to be shallow and narcissistic - qualities that I did not expect to find in an investigative reporter." Hannah was taken aback by so much honesty from Brennan. "Since you have posed the question; no I didn't end our friendship because of your engagement. You were Booth's choice and if you made him happy, I was content with that. I chose to end our friendship when I witnessed your complete lack of empathy toward Booth after Caroline Julian died. You were oblivious to what was happening to Booth and how deeply he was affected."

"I don't remember -."

"You left on an assignment the day after Caroline was killed telling him that he should stop taking the weight of the world on his shoulders. That he couldn't control everything. To 'let it go' I believe were your exact words and to let someone else take care of it."

Hannah still didn't see how those sentiments were wrong.

"I can't tell you how much that hurt Booth as he completely walled off to anyone after that. But it showed me how little you knew him and his history and the kind of man he was."

"You were there, why didn't you help him?"

"You still don't understand; your dismissal of him not ten days after agreeing to marry him and spend the rest of your life together was so devastating that there was nothing any of us could do. His proposal of marriage was honest and real. He was looking for someone to share his life - his whole life - past, present and future unconditionally. He would have opened up to you in ways he never allowed himself to open up to anyone. You threw that back in his face and essentially abandoned him. I will never forgive you for that. You blew apart the team that had just come back together."

"Are you accusing me of being your Yoko Ono?"

"I don't know what that means."

Hannah didn't want to explain. "But you have forgiven Booth for abandoning your partnership."

"Booth was a lot of things to me: colleague, mentor, friend, partner and yes we could have been more if different decisions were made. And there were times he could be harsh and unforgiving with me, but he was never cruel. We earned the trust and admiration that we have for each other and it doesn't matter if work together or if we ever see each other again. I will always count Booth as my closest friend and would do anything for him."

"Does he feel the same way?"

"You would need to ask him that."

"I will re-ask my question from before: did you use Seeley's donated sperm from three years ago to impregnate yourself and if so did you do it without Seeley's knowledge?"

"Again I say that this is not your business."

"That's evasive, Dr. Brennan and leads me to believe that it is true. How will Seeley feel about trust and admiration you have for each other when he finds out?"

Brennan studied her for a long moment. "This interview is over." She stood. "And to answer your question, no." Brennan turned on her heel and walked away. She had answered the question asked. Brennan can't be held responsible for Hannah asking too specific a question. She should know better being a reporter.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

"Sweets, I really don't have time for you."

"I just want to check in with you about your break up with Hannah."

"Is this work related?"

"If you are having a hard time adjusting, I would recommend a few days off."

"I'm fine." Booth nodded for the door.

"And with Dr. Brennan -."

Booth stood up and tossed his pen down on his desk. "Sweets, I understand that it's a shrink thing to ask provocative questions to gauge a reaction. If you will remember, I'm an interrogator and know that trick too. But I don't turn it on my friends or colleagues. You are not invited into my life or my head at will. You have abused our working relationship and our social relationship in unprofessional ways. What you have tried to stir up between me and Hannah and between me and Bones is petty and rude and really none of your business. If you can't see the line between shrink and friend, then we can't be friends."

"I'm only trying to help."

"How many shrinks does it take to change a light bulb, Sweets?"

Sweets mumbled the answer.

"I didn't hear you."

"One, but the light bulb has to want to change."

Booth smiled. "Stay out of my business unless you are asked or it affects my work, OK?"

Sweets nodded. Booth nodded to the door. Sweets left.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Brennan was back at the hotel. Her meeting with Hannah was odd. Why would she fly to Egypt to confront Brennan about what exactly? Brennan would never get a handle on people or their motivations. She was just about to go to bed when her phone rang from the other room. She went to retrieve it. There were four missed calls. The caller ID said: BOOTH. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Hello?"

"Hey Bones, how are the old bones over there?"

"Fine, fine. Everything is going well. How is the investigation going?"

"Slow, but we are progressing. When will you be back again?"

"A few days before Christmas."

"Right, right." Booth was nervous. He was trying to be casual and pretend like it was just a normal call.

"I heard about you and Hannah," she offered so he wouldn't have to bring it up. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well ... don't be. I'm not." He dismissed it too casually. It wasn't that the sentiment was wrong, just that it felt wrong to say it to her like that.

"Hannah came to see me today."

"In Egypt?"

"Yes. Apparently Sweets said something to her that set off her reporter radar."

"Reporter radar?" Booth laughed and got serious immediately. "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine."

"What did she want?"

She considered telling him, but didn't really want to bring up the subject as it would lead to more questions. "It's not really important."

Booth didn't believe her but didn't really know how to press her. It was becoming clear to him that there was a lot of bridge building to be done with Brennan to get back what they had lost and that needed to be done before anything else could happen. It was going to be a long row to hoe, and there was no guarantee, but he had to believe it was worth it. He also knew that he would have to be the instigator and the one to pursue it.

"Are you tired? I'm not sure what time it is over there, but I would really like to tell you about some of the developments I have made with his case and see what kind of insight you have."

She settled on to the couch with a blanket and some tea. "I'm up for a while."

"Good." His nerves ebbed slightly. "So I had an interesting visitor yesterday," he started. "Her name was Java ..."


	11. Chapter 11

**Plan "A": Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Chapter Eleven**

**A/N: ** A little something for the weekend. Will be back on Tuesday or Monday if the weekend doesn't go as planned. Thank you all for your kind words, alerts and favorites. Here's to the next evolution of B&B.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

It was two days before Christmas. The rest of Brennan's trip was fairly uneventful at least she didn't have any more surprise visitors. At close to nine PM Brennan was unpacking from the trip and repacking for her holiday vacation with Russ, his family, her father and the new girlfriend, Sophia. Booth's knock was heard on her door. She knew it immediately; it wasn't just that she was hoping to hear his knock.

"Booth," she said opening the door.

"I hope it's not too late," he said trying to discern if he had gotten her out of bed.

"No, I will be up for a little while yet." She stepped back. "Would you like to come in?"

He stepped in and closed the door behind him. "I won't stay long, I just wanted to welcome you back and wish you a Merry Christmas and to ..." He pulled a wrapped package out from under his coat. " ... To give you this. It's not a Christmas present - it was the only paper I had ... it's just ... well ... I wanted you to have it."

"Thank you."

"You probably already have a dozen, or you use something else or maybe you will think it's a dumb idea."

"Should I open it now?"

He nodded. "Yeah, sure."

She turned to head into the kitchen. "Can I get you something? Tea? Water? Something stronger?" She placed the package on the counter.

"Sure, a drink would be great as long as it's no trouble."

"None at all. Please sit down." Booth sunk down on to the stool. She turned and smiled at him. "Can you take your coat off and stay for a minute?" she asked gently.

"Sure." He slipped out of his jacket and tossed in over the back of a chair like he used to do. It was familiar yet different.

The memory of his last visit to her apartment was on each of them fully. Since Hannah was gone it was easier to feel less guilty, but the facts remained the same. She poured him a glass of scotch – the Highland Park that she had since September. She wasn't drinking much these days. She set it down in front of him, warmed up her tea and took the stool opposite his.

**~!~**

Her new manuscript was on the counter in a box. She hadn't ever let him read an unfinished work and this time would probably be no different. But it was as good a place as any to start a conversation.

"I read your latest book. It was really good," he added quickly. "I like the new girl … what's her name?"

"Are you sure you read it?" She smiled. She had always wondered if Booth really read her books or just the reviews. Booth didn't seem to be the kind that was in her demographic - literarily speaking.

He grinned. "Yes, I did. Lizzie Dee. She's someone I'd like to have a drink with: dangerous, sexy, smart with a kick-ass-ask-questions-later attitude." Brennan smiled. "I didn't expect her partner … the one who was killed by the serial killer … who is one sick bastard by the way … how do you come up with this stuff? Anyway, I didn't expect the partner to be a woman."

"Was trying to be different; to open up other possibilities."

There were so many things that were different about the new book; the writing style, the formula, characters themselves seemed richer, rounder, more flawed but still admirable. He recognized no one person in the characters, but traits of many different people. It showed how Brennan had matured and changed over the years. "I thought the case was very interesting and you have really mastered the reveal of certain details at critical moments to help the reader along. It was a very good read." He nodded to the manuscript. "I'm looking forward to the next one."

"Did you like it better than the Kathy Reichs books?"

Booth hedged. "Well, to be honest … the Reichs books were all great and interesting and certain passages were pretty hot, but I'm not a science guy and sometimes the science stuff would go straight over my head. This new chick Lizzie Dee, she's a cop – a smart cop – but a cop. I can relate to her world better."

Brennan smiled. Much of Lizzie was drawn from Booth though it was subtle. "I can see that."

"Maybe we can hire her at the FBI."

**~!~**

"I don't think you ever told me about the case." Booth stared blankly at her. "I'm sorry, the warehouse fire," she corrected. He probably had a ton of other cases pending too.

"Well I'm sorry to report that this one is a bust."

"What happened?"

"We caught up with Ralph Kinston … in the morgue. He was killed in an apparent drug bust gone bad. There was nothing to tie him to the warehouse or black market adoptions. Shelly, the girl from the scene, the one who was taking a walk at the time, also turned up at the hospital suffering from hypothermia. She and her baby didn't make it. She never regained consciousness. With no other leads to follow we had to leave it open and unsolved."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too. But with what your squint squad put together we did the best we could." Booth had been underwhelmed with Edison's response to the case. He knew in his gut that if he and Brennan were working the murders, a lot more would have been done. He didn't know if he should say it to her. It was a compliment to her, but she might take it wrong. He decided that she needed to know. "Let me say that they were much more creative when working with you. Talk about jumping to conclusions …"

"I find that hard to believe particularly coming from you."

"You wouldn't declare cause of death or anything else unless you were ninety-five percent sure and you never took into account the victims ... what? ... Stereotype. Edison goes for seventy-five percent and – at least in this case – some grand assumptions about the victims."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Well you will see for yourself when you get back to work. There are five bodies still unidentified and we don't have a real name for Krazy Kat." Booth was very frustrated. It was his first case with major crimes in ten months and he wanted to close it to give peace to the victims.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked in all sincerity.

"Well, since you asked. If you can give me more about the victims, that would be great. Maybe tell me where they grew up, any medical history, something that will narrow the search. Call me naive but I believe that somewhere there is someone waiting for these girls to come home. Still don't know how Stacy Landis got to Washington DC. While I wasn't able to give her mother any good news, I could see that she was relieved to know where Stacy ended up."

"So that's it for the investigation."

"With the probably perp dead, there is really nothing more I can do. And you know the FBI; they don't have the budget for chasing this kind of case down."

Brennan nodded. She felt badly that she wasn't more help to Booth when they first got the case. A few years ago they would not have given up. "The remains are still at the Jeffersonian?"

"Yes, until they are identified they're in limbo."

"I will see what I can do."

"I don't want you to get in the middle of anything political at the lab."

"That's my primary job function, Booth. I identify remains. I'll get started immediately."

"It can wait until after the holiday." He took another sip from his glass. "But Edison and I are going to have a conversation."

"About?"

"Well when I come back to major crimes and take back the job of liaison to the Jeffersonian, I won't tolerate that kind of work. I know what you and your squint squad can do. Anything less than that is unacceptable. When you're on, you're awesome. I wish I had you with me on the Broadsky case."

**~!~**

The conversation just ran smack dab into one of the elephants in the room. Booth and Brennan had yet to discuss Broadsky or the fallout from that. They hadn't talked about what Booth went through to find him. How it had changed him. What kind of toll it took on him. What skeletons it dragged out of his closet and how he was able to put them back. They hadn't discussed what affect Booth's abandonment had on Brennan. How it changed her work, her world, her life. How she felt about being shut out and not being allowed to help her partner to bring the man who had wrecked so much havoc to justice. They certainly hadn't discussed that it was that case that broke their partnership. Both knew who was at fault; there was no need to point fingers. But was there something that Brennan could have done? Would Booth have allowed it? Would there be any benefit in ripping it all open and digging though it? In the end, Broadsky didn't happen in a vacuum.

To talk about Broadsky they would have to talk about the other elephant in the room: Caroline Julian. They barely spoke about her death at the time and not since. Booth didn't go to the memorial service, the funeral or the celebration of her life afterward. He went to the gravesite when everyone had gone. He knelt on the grave and apologized. He didn't ask for forgiveness or redemption but promised that he would bring Broadsky in, dead or alive. He could almost hear Caroline's response.

_**You killed the bad guy dead. I know you hate**_

_**that but it always makes me a little glad.**_

_**Does that make me a bad person?**_

He stayed there alone into the wee hours of the morning. Brennan watched from beyond his periphery aching to help him but believing it was not her place anymore. Should she have approached him? Should she have tried to reach out to him? Would he have accepted it? Would the simple gesture of friends supporting each other through the death of one of their own have changed the events of the past ten months? The answer was more than likely yes, but Brennan didn't reach out. Neither did Booth. There was a reason for that too.

To talk about Caroline's death, they would have to address the final elephant in the room: Hannah Burley, the fiancée. Brennan wouldn't challenge Booth's choice of Hannah. It was never a choice of Hannah over Brennan; it was a choice to bring her into their lives, to promote her to such a high status when little or nothing was known of her. He chose to give her the power to change their dynamic; to offset the wheel such that the center couldn't possibly hold. To talk about Hannah they would have to talk about all the things that Booth did that alienated and distanced Brennan from his life. They would have to address that the partnership indeed the whole team took a hit when Hannah arrived. But Hannah didn't get there by luck or happenstance.

To talk about Hannah, they would have to talk about them – not as partners, but as a couple, a couple that squandered their opportunities, as lovers. They would have to discuss what Booth's feelings were back then and how and why they had changed over the course of their five year partnership. They would have to discuss Brennan's feelings and how and why they had changed – a little too little, a little too late. They would also have to discuss the separation and the actions of each during the separation. And they would have to address that fated night in September where for the space of a few hours they forgot the rest of the world, the ignored their responsibilities and the promises they made and found bittersweet acceptance in each other's arms. It was an experience long overdue and while neither could deny it was wrong, neither regretted it. It was best to leave that one alone for all their sakes.

So to talk about any of it, they would have to address all those elephants and it was too much for a quick drive by three days before Christmas. But maybe, if this conversation went well, there would be another and another and another and every one could be dealt with in turn.

**~!~**

"You're being reassigned back to major crimes?" she asked helping both of them avoid the elephants and their droppings. "You'll be the liaison to the Jeffersonian?"

"Yes. Yes I will." He wasn't proud or happy about that, in fact he was more than a little embarrassed. He never should have left in the first place.

"When?"

"After the first of the year. I'm guessing it will be the tenth or the fifteenth of January. There's an agent from New York who will be taking over the task force and he needs some time to relocate. I've been working with him for some time, he's a good guy. I recommended him."

"Won't that be considered a step down?"

"Yes and no. Since I left ... since we stopped working together the close rate on cases has dropped from ninety-five percent to sixty-five percent. The USDA has been complaining that the cases he is given are not strong enough to prosecute. I mean, yes it will be less money, more erratic hours and God knows it will be more disgusting, but it's what I do best. I'm no good at being stuck behind a desk pushing paper and people. I need to be in the field."

"I can understand that. I have been doing a lot more research type work. The work Liam and I were doing and the work we did in Egypt was fascinating but there was very little thrill; the kind of thrill when you catch someone in a lie or when they confess to murder."

"You aren't spending too much time in the lab these days," he stated.

"I'm there two or three days a week, but I'm typically only used as a consultant on particularly difficult cases." She paused. "But I can be there more often. My time is flexible. The two projects I have been working on are complete."

"So you will consult with me?"

"Of course," she said a little too quickly. "I'll be taking twelve weeks off when the - in June."

"June?" Recognition washed over him. "Right, of course."

And the last elephant was accounted for.

**~!~**

"I should let you get some sleep," he said. What he really wanted was another drink and another hour or two of her time. He missed her in his life.

"I won't go to bed for a while yet. Think I'm still on Dublin time."

"Everything was OK?" Booth didn't know how to ask if her archeologist was OK with the break up; or was there no need for a break up?

"We successfully finished the article we were writing. I told him about … well about my pregnancy. He was very surprised but also very sweet," she said. "He offered marriage."

She didn't mean to let it just drop but wound up getting lost in thought. She wasn't prepared for Liam's reaction to the news that she was pregnant. He told her that he was developing deep feelings for her and hoped that they could pursue it into the future. He was very cerebral too. Brennan didn't know where he got that impression; they talked infrequently, exchanged emails rarely and hadn't seen each other since July. In a misguided but very gentlemanly moment, Liam offered to marry her, or at least live with her and help her raise the baby. Brennan naturally turned him down, and she did it as gently as she could. It was gentle by anyone's standards, but it also left no room for misinterpretation. Brennan had learned a lot in the past two years about her feelings and other people's feelings. She was learning to respect both and appreciate the impact that they had on decisions made. They parted as friends and colleagues. He did ask about the father and Brennan skirted the issue and implied that it was planned and with a donor.

"And?" Booth pressed.

She snapped her attention back to Booth. "I refused him naturally."

"Right, naturally." There was a part of Booth that was disappointed. If she is still refusing men, she would probably again refuse him. But they weren't there yet; not even close to there, not even in the same time zone of there. They had a long way to go before that or anything like that was put back on the table.

"Can I get you another drink?" She stood up and went for the bottle.

"Are you sure you're not too tired?"

"No, and I would love a drink, so I must live vicariously through you." She poured him another healthy pour and left the bottle on the counter.

**~!~**

"So I have Parker for the whole week of Christmas."

"Yes, you were saying that at Thanksgiving. Where will Rebecca be?"

"She and her boyfriend ... her fiancée are taking his kids to visit his parents in Arizona. Apparently it will be very awkward for everyone so Rebecca allowed Parker to skip this trip."

"It will be good for you and Parker."

"Yes, we're very excited. We have the whole weekend planned. Christmas Eve is pizza and video games. Christmas morning will be church. Then we thought we would go up to the mountains to see some real snow."

Brennan smiled. She had always loved it when Booth would talk about his son. It didn't matter what mood he was in, his spirits always lifted when the subject was Parker. She wanted to know but she didn't want to ask what Parker's reaction was to Hannah and Booth's break up.

"Hey why don't you come with?" Booth stated like it was a new idea. "Seriously, it would be fun. I got Parker a snowboard for Christmas and I'm sure he would love to show you what he can do."

It was a really enticing offer. "That sounds good, but I will be going to my brother's. My dad will be there with his new girlfriend. I haven't met her yet, but Russ is not impressed."

"How is Max?"

She smiled and nodded. "He's good. He is going to flip when he finds out that he will be a grandfather for real."

"You haven't told him yet?"

"Not yet."

Booth had to ask. "What will you say?"

"I'll say it was my choice, my decision and the right time."

Booth really wanted to know how she would field the father question.

"They will be happy for me."

Brennan would have welcomed the conversation if Booth wanted to open it about how they would handle the news of the paternity of her child when the time came. She was prepared to keep it a secret. She was prepared to lie if she had to. Since Booth was coming back major crimes and the lab, it would get very complicated. If Booth wanted to avoid suspicion then he needed to stop focusing his energy on her particularly around other people. She knew that one day he would want to claim the child as his. She wondered if she expected that all along. The left side of brain would say no. The right would stay silent. The only thing for sure was that their lives were going to get increasingly complicated until they handled those questions and herded those elephants to safety.

**~!~**

"I really should let you get to sleep." He stood up. "Thanks for the drink."

She was disappointed that he was leaving. "You're welcome." She hesitated. "Oh wait," she called him back. "I should open this." She held his package aloft.

Booth nodded. "Like I said you probably have one or twelve." He laughed a little.

She pulled off the paper with surgical like precision and took out a fantastic leather journal. It was a rich dark brown. The paper was handmade rough cut that was hand-sewn to the rich leather binding. It was stunning. But he was right, she had journals.

"It's not real," he quickly pointed out. "The leather … it's not real. I know how you are about that … but it looks real."

She was still a little confused. "Thank you."

"It's for the baby … I mean it's for you for the baby … well not when he's a baby but for when he – or she – grows up."

She still didn't understand.

"You have probably already started one, but … well when Rebecca was pregnant with Parker … we were barely talking. Anyway, I keep thinking about all the things I wanted to do with Parker, I didn't know it was Parker at the time, but … anyway, there were things that I wanted to tell him, songs I wanted him to listen to, stories that I didn't want to forget to tell him, life lessons. Basically anything I wanted him to know. Every time I thought of something I would jot it down. Some days I filled up pages. Sometimes I wouldn't write anything for a week or month or more. It just depended on what went through my mind. I have a three or four of them now - journals. I'll give them to Parker at some point. When he's old enough or maybe when he's having a baby." Booth reached out to touch the journal. "Sometimes I read through it and I'm reminded of things that I haven't told Parker – or things I have and can check off." He pulled his hand back and looked up at her. "Dumb right?"

She shook her head. "It's very nice. Sentimental – in a good way." She clutched the journal to her chest. There was so much about being a parent that she could learn from Booth. "No, I haven't thought of this. I have started working on other developmental schedules, but not about life lessons or experiences that I want to share." She smiled. "It's a wonderful idea." She had to wonder if he started another one recently. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." They held the look until both got uncomfortable. "Well, I should go. If you change your mind about the snow, just give us a call. I know Parker would love to see you."

"I would like to see him," she stated. "Another time?"

"Absolutely." He slipped into his coat and moved to the door. "Merry Christmas, Bones."

"Merry Christmas, Booth."

He smiled and left. Brennan with the journal still clutched tightly to her chest watched him until he turned the corner. Then she slowly closed her door. Her apartment seemed empty.

**~!~**

She changed into some warm sweats and socks, made herself another cup of tea and sat down at her desk. The journal was front and center. She opened the book and paused with her pen. She was not used to hand writing anymore. Everything was done on computer. She considered creating these entries on her laptop and printing them out, but changed her mind. It seemed more personal if it was hand written.

She dated the top left corner.

She paused again wondering what she wanted to say to her child. There were so many things. She sat back and considered. She let her eyes roam over the room. Maybe she should tell him about history or culture or science. She wasn't sure if the child was a male, but Angela said she could feel it. Brennan didn't put much stock in that. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. As she slowly opened them she noticed that Booth had forgotten his scarf. She went over and picked it up running the soft alpaca wool through her fingers. She brought it to her face and inhaled. It was Booth's scent. The one she recognized, the one she knew, the one that she sometimes smelled even when he wasn't around. She got a faraway look in her eye and smiled. She draped the scarf around her neck and went back to her desk. She picked up her favorite pen, considered for a moment and then began to write.

_My child, I want to tell you about your father … _


	12. Chapter 12

**Plan "A": Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Chapter Twelve**

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

"Thank you, you may step down," the judge ordered.

Booth looked to the prosecutor and then over at Jacob Broadsky who was looking at him with an amused smile.

"Reserve the right to recall this witness at a later time, your honor."

"So ordered," the judge said. "Agent Booth?"

Booth nodded and stepped out of the witness box. There was more he wanted to say. More evidence he could give. He had all the evidence about Caroline and the three other people Broadsky killed after Caroline: the weapons, the maps, scope shots, proof that Broadsky was in each town at the time. He had evidence that proved that Broadsky was planning to take out a senator, a congressmen, two governors, three army generals and a White House staffer, not to mention Temperance Brennan and Camille Saroyan. He wasn't allowed to present any of that testimony. Broadsky was only being charged with the murder of Heather Taffet and Tracy Lavek. The case for Caroline Julian, Matt Memphis, Adam Newland, Jan Diego were still pending even though Booth had him dead to rights on all of them and he had a taped confession though it was obtained illegally so would not be allowed in court. He kept his eyes on Broadsky as he passed the defense table. Broadsky's amused expression did not change.

Booth stepped into the gallery he saw Brennan sitting in the back left corner watching him. He didn't know she was there. They made eye contact and acknowledged each other. Booth took his seat behind the prosecution table. There was more posturing by the defense attorney to discredit Booth's testimony. The USADA was not firing back with as much force as Booth wanted. It was as if he didn't think he had a case; that Booth indeed was biased from a past relationship with Broadsky. Booth was becoming infuriated. Finally the judge called court for the day and ordered everyone back the next morning. After the judge left and Broadsky was escorted out in chains, Booth pulled the USADA off to the side demanding to know what was going on. Brennan watched as the two men held a heated discussion with their voices checked as not to be overheard. Brennan decided to wait outside.

She was on the steps when Booth emerged. He was so frustrated he wanted to punch a wall; Brennan was the furthest thing from his mind. He nearly punched her when she touched his shoulder from behind. He flipped around with his fist balled and ready to strike.

"Booth!" She stepped back holding up her hand to block the punch that was immediately stopped when he realized who she was.

"Bones, I'm sorry." He stepped back and relaxed his hand. "I want to kill that guy."

"The prosecutor?"

"He's an idiot. Don't know how the hell he got the job. I take back everything I said about Edison; it was not his fault that cases weren't close. This guy ... THIS GUY is a screw up."

"Caroline could try this case in her PJs and get a conviction."

Booth looked over at her deadpan expression echoes of Caroline in the Big Easy few through his mind. He had to smile. "Thanks Bones."

She nodded and smiled slightly too. It was good to remember her with fondness and not grief.

"The only good thing that this ADA did was not lump all these deaths into one trial."

"Meaning if he loses this case, there are others?"

"Yes ... and if he tanks this case, he's going to be trying the next one from the hospital."

"That would be ill advised."

"Yeah, I know." He reached out and touched her arm. "Thanks for coming, Bones. I didn't know you were going to be here."

She nodded thinking that there was a time when he knew what she was going to do before she did it - or so it seemed at the time. Booth had been back working major crimes since the middle of January, about three weeks. Brennan was spending all of her time at that lab and working on his cases under Edison's supervision. It was an odd dynamic by anyone's estimation. Booth hadn't invited nor had Brennan asked to go back out into the field. They had been talking fairly regularly since Christmas but mostly about work. There were a few lunches, some coffee at the lab, one drink after work. She and Angela were able to help him identify the five other women from the fire. It was rather sad actually. No one was looking for these women. In two cases both parents were dead and the siblings and extended family didn't care where she was. In three cases only one parent was living and never expected to hear from their daughter again nor did they seem to care about how she lived or how she died. Booth and Brennan were just grateful that they were given proper burials.

Brennan never made it to the snow with the Booth boys, but did have them for dinner a couple of weeks later. Parker was very excited to see Brennan again and pretty much dominated the conversation with all that had gone on in his life in the past year. In a private moment Parker told Brennan that he was glad that Hannah was gone. He never liked her and felt that she never liked him and that his father seemed happier with her gone. Of course Brennan assured him that Hannah did like him, but didn't bother to press. It was a perfect moment to mention her own pregnancy and that he would be getting a sibling soon, but since Booth hadn't claimed the baby, she didn't want to speak out of turn. She didn't blame Booth. She told him that the baby was hers. There was a large part of her that was grateful that he was respecting her wishes knowing that it was probably difficult for him.

~!~

"I'm sorry, Bones."

"Sorry?"

He led her over to a bench away from the entrance to the court house. "Yes. I never should have cut you out of the Broadsky investigation. I broke our partnership and it was just wrong not to mention just bad police work."

She sat back. She wasn't going to press but if he wanted to talk about it, she would listen.

"I felt responsible, you know."

"I know."

"Broadsky was here because of me. Taffet and Lavek died because of me. And Caroline - she was a friend, a mentor. I knew her for years. She saw me at my lowest and dragged me back up kicking and screaming. She was the one who forced me to go to my first GA meeting."

"I didn't know that."

"I'm sure you can imagine that she was not all touchy feely about it. She pretty much told me to get my shit together or she was going to get me fired." He reached out and took her hand. "I didn't quit completely until I met you, but Caroline at least knew I was in trouble."

"Why did you?" she asked. "Why did you cut me out of the investigation?"

He took a deep breath. He knew. He had known for a long time. It was just wrong thinking. "I couldn't bear to see the look in your eyes that blamed me for all these deaths."

"Booth!" she sat up. "If I ever gave you the impression -."

"No, no you didn't. It was all me. I just couldn't stand to see it in anyone's eyes. It's why I cut everyone out. Everyone." His second 'everyone' implied Hannah. He needed Brennan to know that he was not turning to anyone else when he turned away from her - at least not in that way.

"I'm sorry you went through it all alone. I'm sure it brought up a lot of your own sniper past. You shouldn't have had to relive that."

"With or without Broadsky, I relive it every day, but you and me ... us ... our partnership ... we were tipping the scales in the other direction." He ran a hand through his hair. "After Caroline, the scale was broken. All our good work was forgotten. I was right back into it and saw no way out but to slog through it on my own. To find Broadsky and drag him in. The night we buried Caroline, I was planning on killing Broadsky the moment I found him. In hindsight I should have."

"No, Booth. You are not an assassin."

He laughed. "That is exactly what I am."

"Then you are not a murderer. Killing Broadsky without provocation would have been murder, you know that. It's the same reason we didn't kill Taffet, and believe me I wanted to kill her. Hell, we could have killed her, gotten away with it and slept like a baby." Her hand went reactively to her abdomen. Booth noticed.

"I'm sorry I cut you out. It would have been a faster and cleaner collar if you were involved. I'm sorry."

"Accepted." There was more to talk about. But they had finally addressed it.

~!~

"Can I give you a ride back to the lab?" Booth asked.

"No," she said. "I'm done for the day. I have an appointment to get an ultrasound."

"Ultrasound?" Booth was worried. "Is anything wrong?"

"No, no. Everything is fine. Just procedure."

Booth wanted to question it further. He was under the impression that an ultrasound was done around twenty weeks; Brennan should only have been eighteen weeks. Maybe he did he math wrong in his head.

"This will be the second one I've had," she explained.

He hesitated. He wanted to ask but was afraid she would turn him down and remind him that it was not his place.

Brennan saw his ambivalence. She would be the one who had to make the move. She set the ground rules and if they were to change, she needed to change them; of course she also needed to be prepared for him not to want to change them. "Would you like to come with me?"

"YES," he almost shouted. "Yes, I would like that very much. Thank you."

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Brennan drove and they talked around a lot of subjects but not the baby or the pregnancy. The weight of that elephant should have dragged the car down. The technician was late so they had to sit in the waiting room for a long fifteen minutes. There were other couples there; other expectant mothers and proud fathers. Booth just smiled and nodded at the men.

When it was their turn the receptionist demanded to know who Booth was. What was his relation to Brennan?

"Just a friend," he claimed.

Brennan corrected him. "He's the father."

"The father?" the receptionist questioned. "I have down here you were artificially inseminated, so he is the husband, not the biological father."

Booth was a deer caught in headlights.

"He's the biological father who donated his sperm for insemination."

"Very peculiar," the receptionist claimed. "Out of the ordinary."

"Be that as it may," Brennan wanted to move on. "May we begin?"

"Yes, yes ... please ... exam room one. Please remove-."

"I know how this works, miss," Brennan dismissed and headed back to exam room one.

Booth did not know how it worked. He didn't go through this with Rebecca, but followed along with Brennan and waited for her cues.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Booth walked out of there when it was over in stunned silence. It was one of the most amazing experiences of his life; outdone only by the actual birth of his son in which he was present. He hadn't noticed but he held Brennan's hand throughout the procedure and nearly cut off the circulation to her hand when they heard the heartbeat. The tech asked if they wanted to know the gender of the baby. Brennan said yes before Booth could stop her. They were having a girl - correction she was having a girl. Booth was thrilled. He assumed she was having a boy but to have confirmation that it was a girl was nice too; really nice. Brennan was unconvinced that the technician knew what she was doing, but didn't challenge her on it.

Brennan drove Booth back to his vehicle. Little was said between them.

"Thank you," he said. "That was really amazing."

She smiled. "It was, wasn't it?" She had discovered during the ultrasound that she enjoyed experiencing her pregnancy through Booth's eyes. He was so strong and hard; tough and jaded when it came to most aspects in his life. But with Parker and with this, he was sentimental and very soft. It softened Brennan. She was looking at her pregnancy as a doctor would, as physical changes in her body. Booth saw the miracle of life. She wanted to see that too, with him she did.

"Yeah," he nodded. He didn't want to leave her. He really wanted to talk more about everything, anything - but had court the next day.

"Dinner?" she asked simply.

"I could eat," he said quickly. It was almost as if she read his mind.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**


	13. Chapter 13

**Plan "A": Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Chapter Thirteen **

**Booth and Brennan in the field – over protective Booth**

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

"Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God, Sweetie, are you OK?" Angela was panicked by time she got to the emergency room. "What happened? Oh my God!" Angela noticed that her sleeve was cut away on her left arm and was covered with a bandage and her face had a huge gash on the left cheek that looked like it was from a knife. It was being closed by two butterfly bandages.

"I'm fine Angela, really, I'm fine." Brennan tried to stand up but lost her balance slightly and sat back down. "I just need a ride back to the lab and they won't let me leave here by myself."

"Sweetie, you are definitely not fine. I'm taking you home."

"I'm fine, Angela."

"You are not fine Mrs. Brennan," the nurse declared. She was not amused. "The doctor hasn't released you, and if you don't get back in that bed, I'm going to restrain you. Do you hear me?"

Brennan sat back on the bed.

"And who is this now?" The nurse scanned Angela up and down wish a disapproving glare.

"This is my friend, Angela Montenego-Hodgins."

"I'm sorry, Miss, but there are no visitors back here."

Angela put her hand on her hip and met the nurse's annoyance with her own. "Then call security, because I'm not leaving."

The nurse rolled her eyes. She could snap Angela like a toothpick, if she had the time or interest. "Whatever." She turned her attention back to Brennan. "Stay down, Mrs. Brennan."

"It's Doctor Brennan."

"Well you should go back to school, cause you sure as shit didn't learn anything last time." With that she strode out of the space whipping the curtain closed behind her.

Angela turned her attention back to Brennan. "Who pissed in her Cheerio's?"

"How do you know what she had for breakfast?"

"It's an expression, sweetie." She grabbed Brennan's hand. "Are you alright? What did the doctor say."

"I'm fine. They can't give me anything for the headache or the pain because of the baby and because I refused. I have six stitches in my arm, and they are saying that the wound on the face will be fine. It's not deep. I need to get back to the lab. Dr. Edison may compromise the evidence if he isn't -."

"Forget the case, honey. Forget it. You could have been killed. What they hell were you doing out there anyway? Who was this guy that grabbed you? And where's Booth?"

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

All very good questions, Angela.

Brennan had gone to a crime scene that had already been processed. A body was found in the dumpster in the back of a Japanese restaurant. It was in a severe state of decomp, so Booth and the Jeffersonian team were brought in. Brennan did not work the crime scene. It was the middle of March, she was seven months pregnant (or just over six depending upon who you ask), and she was beginning to have mobility issues and shortness of breath. She hadn't gained a lot of extra weight and had stayed true to diet and exercise routine, but pregnant was pregnant. She was feeling OK, but then again Brennan didn't pamper herself. Any discomfort she felt she wrote off as normal with the pregnancy. She was at the lab and had discovered that Edison and Bray had missed some vital piece of evidence; something she would not have missed. She would not have missed it because she would have had the entire dumpster shipped back to the Jeffersonian. It was too late for that, but not too late to get the evidence she needed. She went out to get it. There was no danger; the restaurant had been closed as a crime scene. There was no need to take anyone with her as she wouldn't be there more than thirty minutes. She couldn't send anyone else because she didn't trust them.

With each passing week, she had felt her role at the lab and in the investigations being minimized. It wasn't out of malice or disrespect, but they were preparing for her to be gone with the baby. Booth had been back working with the squints for two months and they hadn't yet reformed their partnership in the field for obvious reasons. Edison was still the head forensic anthropologist working for Dr. Saroyan. Brennan was just a bonus and was supposed to be working on identifying remains in limbo. She didn't want to be a bonus. It was a new role for her to play. In the preceding months before Booth came back, she didn't want to work crime scenes. She wanted to get back to her first love, pure research. But since he had been back, she wanted to be in the thick of the action. It was not to be.

Booth and Brennan were spending more of their off hours together. Lots of dinners, lunches and just hours spent in each other's company. They mostly talked about work and other safe subjects. There was more conversation about Broadsky; what was going on with the trial and what Booth went through. The Broadsky case drew on for weeks. There were a lot more down days than up. Booth was fine as long as he was in jail. He forced the USADA to file the other charges so that if the Taffet/Lavek case went south he would be immediately jailed for those crimes. By middle March, the jury came back deadlocked. Booth nearly lost it. Broadsky was bound over for a new trial that would begin as soon as a new jury was empanelled. This time Booth needed to find motive. It didn't all fall on Booth's shoulders but he felt that it did; he was a bit distracted at work. Brennan tried to help where she could, but she was not good with motive. She felt useless to him as well.

She was at the scene collecting whatever it was she felt was so important. It probably wasn't vital information, but with Brennan it was hard to know what would crack a case wide open. She heard a noise behind her and before she could turn around, she was grabbed from behind and held in a vice-like grip. The man held a knife to her throat and demanded to know what she was doing there. His accent was thick and she could barely understand him. She struggled to get away, but her mobility was compromised. The man kept demanding to know what she knew. He wanted to know what happened to Sakana, Sakana Raiden. Brennan had no idea who that was but she kept talking to him in spite of her fear and the knife at her throat. Eventually she was able to determine that the man holding her felt that the body in the dumpster was his brother and he was trying to find out who killed him. Brennan was almost able to calm him down. Until ...

"FBI," Booth shouted. "Drop the knife."

The man turned toward Booth, tightened his grip on Brennan and used her like a shield. "Drop the gun," he shouted back in very clear English. "Drop the gun or she dies." As he tightened his grip some more Brennan resisted; in the process her face was cut. She cried out and blood streamed down her face.

Booth eyes flamed anger. "Drop the knife and I won't kill you right here, right now," he stated with such deadly sincerity that it shook even Brennan.

"Do what he says," Brennan said to her captor. "He's an excellent marksman."

"NOW!" Booth shouted.

The man holding Brennan was startled; released his grip just enough for her to do some sort of awkward maneuver to pull enough away from him to give Booth a clear shot. Booth took it and hit him in the left shoulder. As he felt back, his knife grazed Brennan's arm giving her a very deep gash. She fell back with the man. Booth rushed over, kicked the knife away, handcuffed the man and attended to Brennan.

"I'm OK," she said. "I'm OK. I'm OK."

Booth was shaking when he called in for an ambulance but he hadn't yet talked directly to Brennan.

"Booth, Booth ... I'm OK," she said again.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he shouted at her.

"I needed to collect -."

"Nothing!" he stopped her. "Nothing, you didn't need to come here and you damn sure didn't need to come here alone. You could have sent anyone else in the lab or me. You could have called me to take you."

"Booth, I don't need -."

"Yes, you do!" He interrupted her again. "You could have been killed. Do you realize that? You could have been killed. And no, this is not the first time you have done something dangerous, but you are pregnant. Do you understand? You could have gotten yourself and your baby killed today out of some misguided - ."

"Booth -."

They were interrupted by the EMT arriving.

Booth allowed the EMTs to take Brennan and he rode with Sakana's brother to the hospital. He was still shaking when they loaded Brennan into the ambulance. As they drove away, he called Angela to get down there to be with her.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

"So where is Booth?"

"He's with the man that was holding me, Sakana Nao, the brother of the victim."

"You know that? How do you know the victim's name?"

"I found his wallet." Brennan stated. "It was still in the dumpster. They didn't process the scene correctly. Why wasn't Hodgins there? Hodgins would never have missed that. Where was Cam, why wasn't she there?"

"Sweetie, what are you doing?" Angela sat down on the bed next to her. "Bren, you have to stop trying to control everything. No one does things the way you do, but that doesn't mean you are the only one who can get stuff done. We would have found it eventually. You need to think about yourself right now. You need to concentrate on your baby. And trust me when I say, you can't do fifty percent of what you used to do when you're six months pregnant and it only gets worse from here on out."

"Thank you, Angela," came a stern voice from behind Angela. Both women turned to see Booth. "Maybe you can get through to her, 'cause I've been talking until I am blue in the face and she doesn't list to me."

Angela saw that Booth was not a happy man. He was glaring at Brennan. Clearly Angela was in the way. "I can go," she said. "Why don't I go? I'll go." She leaned down and hugged Brennan. "Love you, sweetie." She mouthed the words, 'He's pissed. Be nice.' Brennan nodded. Angela walked up to Booth gave him a quick hug and left.

"Booth, I'm -," Brennan started.

"I know." He cut her off. "They're releasing you to me. I'm taking you home."

"I need to get back to the lab."

"I'm taking you home," he repeated and left no room for discussion.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

A short while later, Booth opened Brennan's door to her apartment and let her enter in front of him. It was a quiet ride home. Booth was stewing and Brennan was annoyed that he was so annoyed. She thought about defending herself, she thought about arguing with him, but she knew Booth well enough to know that when he was in that angry a mood there was no talking to him.

He settled her on the couch and got her some water and a blanket.

"Are you going to talk to me?" she asked. "Or is this your way of punishing me? I am used to your silence but never while you were in the same room."

"Don't worry, Bones. We're going to talk. Well I am going to talk and you are going to listen."

He took off his coat, and went to where she kept the liquor. He pulled out the unopened bottle of Tequila - a very nice bottle of Tequila - and poured himself a big shot. He downed it and then another.

"Alcohol is not a good way to -."

He turned and glared at her. He put the cork in the bottle, put it away and rinsed his glass out. After a long moment he turned to her. She was no longer watching him. He came around and sat down on the coffee table in front of her. "I need in," he said simply.

"I don't understand."

"Yes you do. I need in on this pregnancy, on this baby. You are carrying our baby ... not your baby, our baby. Doesn't matter how it was conceived ... this is our child. I can't let you continue to go on as if I don't matter. As if I don't have an opinion or that I don't care. I do care, Bones. I care a lot. I know this is probably not what you want to deal with right now ... or ever ... but you had to know that if you asked me to father your baby that it would be very difficult for me to not be involved. I have really tried to respect your wishes. I have been grateful for every little bone you have tossed to me. I thought that as long as you allowed me to talk to you, to see you, to be with you occasionally that would be enough, but it's not."

"Booth -."

"You said that if I wanted to be known as the father, that it would be my choice. Well I do. I want to be more than known, I want to be involved. In fact, I don't care what other people think or don't think. I care that you and I know that she is our baby. I want to know that between the two of us we will protect her, love her and care for her. She needs to know starting right now that she has two parents who love her and will do everything in their power to keep her safe. OK?"

"Booth -." She was shaking her head. "You're upset about today; please don't make any rash decisions right now."

"You're damn straight I'm upset about today." He leaned back. "It kills me to see you hurt, in anyway. I should have been there to protect you - and not just as the mother of my unborn daughter. Come on Bones, we have been through too much to be confused about this stuff. You should never have -"

"My going there alone had no bearing on us."

"Yes it did, don't you see? Can't you see that at all?"

"No."

"Bones, a year ago you never would have gone to a crime scene without me. Never."

Bones thought back twelve months. A year before at that time Booth was engaged and off chasing Broadsky. Their partnership was dissolved. He wasn't around to call for anything much less back up at a crime scene. "A year ago I would have gone alone," she stated.

Booth too thought back to where they were a year before. "Fine then two years. Jesus, Bones, we have lost so much time already. We have lost so much between us. We need to get that back. However we do it, we need to get that back. We need to get our partnership, our friendship back. You are the only woman, the only person in the world that I trust - I used to be that for you, help me to fix that. I know I have screwed up. I know that this is my fault - but you have to stop pushing me away."

"I don't see that I'm pushing you away." She leaned back. "I don't know what you're asking from me."

"First and foremost, I need to the father to our baby ... in all aspects. How we tell people or if we tell people - I don't care. But I want to be involved in everything related to the baby. You're going to birthing classes with Angela; that should be me. You are planning her education and development; I should have input. I want to see you through this last trimester, keep you safe and comfortable. I want to be there when she is born and when we bring her home. I want to be part of all of it; doctor's visits, picking out a name, buying furniture for the nursery, all of it. All of it. Hell, I want to be the one to go out in the middle of the night to get you pickles and ice cream."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"To take care of you."

"I don't like pickles and ice cream contains too much fat and is unwise for pregnant women to consume that much fat and sugar."

"Fine, fine ... tofu and tangerines, I don't care ... whatever you're craving."

"That is very nice of you, Booth -."

"No – It's not nice ... I want to do it. I want to be part of this. I realize that I should probably not have agreed to this scheme of yours until we got this part settled, but it's too late to turn back now." He reached out and put his hands on either side of her abdomen. "That is our daughter, Bones. Yours and mine - it's a miracle. We are having a daughter." He smiled for the first time that day. "She's a miracle. I hope she looks just like you. I hope she has your brains. I hope that she's everything you are."

Brennan smiled. "I was actually hoping that she would take after you more - your courage, your kindness, the way you love life and embrace it with both arms."

"I think she will have the best of both of us." He smiled softly at her. "What do you say Bones?"

She could never resist his charming smile. "Ok."

"OK?"

"Yes." She put her hands on his which were still on her abdomen. "What will you say? You were still with Hannah when -." She let the rest of that sentence drop.

He thought he knew what she was referring to. "You asked and I authorized the use of my stuff - if anyone asks." He faced washed with something that Brennan read as shame. "We did nothing wrong," he said as if forcing himself to believe it too.

She nodded. He was still feeling guilt over the night they shared; the night they created their daughter. If she could protect him from any further guilt or shame and if that involved lying even to him, she would do it. "No, nothing wrong. Simple procedure."

He took her hand and sat down next to her on the couch. "What is really going to suck though?"

"What's that?" she asked grateful that she no longer had to look into his eyes.

"We are going to have to tell Sweets that he was right."

"Not completely. He thought I did this on my own, without consulting you."

"He will still gloat."

She shifted position so she could be more comfortable. "I don't care about Sweets."

"No?"

"No," she confirmed. "But you know what I do care about?"

"What?"

"Tofu and tangerines."

He laughed. "What?"

"I'm starving. How about some Pad Thai, Prig King and spring rolls."

"That I can do." He was about to get up but she held his arm.

"Booth, are you sure about this?"

"Yes," he said earnestly. "I have never been more sure about anything in my life." He studied her for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"No," she said with the same earnestness. "I'm scared. Scared about what it means, scared about what it doesn't mean. Scared that I'm going to be a terrible mother. What if she doesn't like me?"

He gathered her up in his arms. "None of that is going to happen, you have to trust me. Trust yourself. She'll love you. You'll love her. You'll be a great mother." He hugged her hard and she welcomed it. She had been so stoic so far and convincing herself that she could do it alone, but to have someone, anyone, but particularly Booth offer to see her through not only the pregnancy but the life of her child was a great relief. He looked down at her. She was stunning. Absolutely glowing. "How about that food, huh?"

She nodded. "Thank you."

He wanted to kiss her, but it wasn't the right time. "Thank you."


	14. Chapter 14

**Plan "A": Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Chapter Fourteen**

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

"Hey Bren!" Angela quickly walked into Brennan's office. "Are you picking me up, or am I picking you up tomorrow night? And can we eat first? Or do you want to wait until after? I liked to wait until after, but it's up to you. We could do both. But sometimes eating too late at night gave me heartburn to kill for. Just ask Hodgins."

Brennan stood up. "I've been meaning to talk to you." She came around her desk and closed the door. She nodded for Angela to go over to the couch.

"This is serious," she said warily. "Are you OK? Is the baby OK? Sweetie, you're scaring me."

Brennan smiled to let her friend know that all was well. "There's something I need to tell you. Something I need to ask you. Well maybe I should ask you first."

Angela sunk down on to the couch. "Go on."

"Would you mind if you weren't my birthing coach?"

Angela was quickly offended. "You have another best friend you want to ask?"

"No." Brennan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "The father has requested to do it."

"The father?" Angela was confused. "Mr. Anonymous 985LK6289?"

"No."

A realization came over Angela. "Booth?" she squeaked out.

Brennan nodded. Her face betrayed no emotion.

"I knew it!" Angela jumped up and dragged Brennan with her. She hugged her hard. "I knew it. I knew him hanging around with that cat-who-ate-the-canary expression was not for nothing. So did you -"

"I asked and he agreed." Brennan's expression was not infected by Angela's smile or the fact that she was lying by omission to her best friend, someone she had no reason to lie to. "It was your idea, you know. It didn't cross my mind until you mentioned it. The more I thought about it the more it made sense."

"This is great!" Angela always held out that thin ray of hope for Booth and Brennan. She did some quick math in her head and it didn't add up. "Sweetie, Booth was still with Hannah when this went down. Is this why they broke up?"

"No … I don't believe so."

"Did Booth tell her, talk to her first about it?"

"No." Brennan didn't get that from Booth or her knowledge of the actual chain of events. She got that from Hannah.

"WOW … I mean really … WOW. Can you imagine if they were still together and you were having his kid? Not sure any woman is that enlightened even you."

"If Booth and Hannah were still together, I doubt very much if he would have come back to major crimes. He wouldn't be in our lives. I would be in pure research and having this baby alone, as I originally intended. There was no need for this to affect anyone beyond me."

"You can't possibly be that naive, sweetie." Angela took Brennan's hand and they sat back down on the couch. "By letting you have his kid, he basically killed his relationship with the Baghdad Vixen. It may have taken a couple of months to die, but it was over as soon as he said yes. And if you don't know that, trust me Booth does."

"Why do you say that? That was not what I wanted at all."

"Didn't you? Tell me that you aren't still in love with him? Tell me it was strictly a good DNA that motivated you to ask Booth for his boys."

Brennan shook her head. "I can't say that, but I didn't want him to break up with Hannah. I wasn't expecting him to be a part of this at all."

"So why him?"

"I had a reason."

"I'm sure you did and I'm sure it was well thought out and very logical, so ... spill."

"I asked Booth because I wanted to ensure that I would bond with the child." The look in Angela's eye said that that would not be enough of an explanation. "If I knew the baby was fathered by Booth, I would be more likely to see traits in her that I recognized and were familiar. She wouldn't be so foreign. I would love her more."

"You know I'm not sure that I would believe that from anyone else in the world. But even from you, that sounds like a grand rationalization."

"It's not Angela. Really."

Angela shook her concerns away. However it happened Booth and Brennan were together - sort of - the rest would follow naturally - like the horse following the cart but sooner or later they would figure it out - she hoped. "So are you two going to get married, move in together … buy a minivan?" Or they would be pushed by well meaning friends.

"No, no … not at all. He just wants to be part of the pregnancy processes since he missed it with Parker. Then I assume we will work out a custody agreement."

Angela squeezed her friend's hand. "I'm so sorry for you, Bren."

"Why? I'm happy. Really."

"You get all the crap that comes with a relationship but have none of the fun. You have fast forwarded to the divorce with kids and you haven't even bumped the uglies with him yet."

Brennan looked down.

"Just tell me - honestly, no bullshit, just you and me - do you love him?"

Brennan had to give her honest answer; she was lying about so much already. "Yes."

"Well then Sweetie, I would take this opportunity to reconnect - in your case, connect the first time - romantically and see what happens, you know?"

"I don't think anything like what you're implying will happen. I hurt him and he has moved on."

"I don't think so Sweetie. He is here now with you."

"His only interest is this child. Just like Rebecca, he can love and want his son, but not the mother."

"Sweetie – he'd never have let you use his little guys if he didn't still have feelings for you. I mean it's not like this was a mistake from a one night stand. You know - a little too much wine, some nostalgic honesty - one thing leads to another and before you know it, it's dawn and you have just had the best sex of your life with a man who is walking out the door to go back to the woman he claims to love out of some misguided sense of duty and honor when what he really wants to do is crawl back in bed with you and tell the world to go to hell." Angela shrugged. "You aren't the only one who's lost somebody, Sweetie. Anyway, it was not like that. It was all very civil and rational. He weighed the pros and cons and said yes - for whatever complicated reasons those were."

"I believe much of his decision stemmed from the fact that Hannah didn't want children," Brennan explained. "She stated that she would not have children."

"Well that'll kill a relationship particularly with a guy like Booth," Angela noted. "But don't worry; I'm sure he won't think you trapped him."

Brennan wanted to tell her what happened – what really happened. That it happened just like Angela described. That he said yes to her request, after a night of intensity the likes of which neither had ever known before – well at least Brennan hadn't. So his judgment was impaired. In the end he didn't need to say yes, the decision was made for them. But Brennan didn't trap him. In fact they weren't in a romantic relationship at all. It was all about the baby and Booth would back off Brennan as soon as their daughter was born. Brennan had a lot to think about. She was getting confused.

"We have not chosen to go public with this quite yet. We will, but for now we would like to keep this quiet."

"I understand, my lips are sealed." With that came a knock on Brennan's door with Booth standing on the outside. Angela crossed to the door and opened it. "Well done, super stud." She smiled a knowing smile at Booth, kissed his cheek and slipped out.

Booth looked at Brennan. "You told her?"

"I told her we wanted to keep it kind of quiet."

"Right, that'll happen."

Just then Hodgins burst into the room. "DUUUUUUUDE!" He threw his arms around Booth and hugged him. He leaned back add looked him in the eye. "We'll talk ... grab a brew ... you know?" He punched in the arm. "Dude!" and walked away.

"Yep, quiet as a mouse." Booth really didn't care who knew. The only one he was going to have a hard time explaining this whole thing to was Parker. If he could just tell him that he and Brennan were in a relationship it would be a lot easier. Maybe if he waited long enough that is exactly what he would say.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

"Seeley, can I talk to you?" Cam called across the lab floor.

"Sure." Booth followed her into her office. She closed the door behind him.

"What's going on big man?" she asked simply.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes you do ... you and Brennan ... spill."

He shrugged but his mouth was drawing into a grin.

"You're the father aren't you?"

The smile was complete and coupled with a nod.

"Deposit made direct or through the bank."

"What do you think?"

"I think you went through the bank, but I'm not sure why. What did Hannah have to say?"

"Not a factor."

"You can lie to yourself Seeley, but you can't lie to me."

"She was not a factor. My relationship with Hannah was doomed from the moment she accepted my proposal. She had no intention of marrying me; she just didn't want to break up. So she strung me along."

"And what better way to get back at her than to father Brennan's kid."

"It was not like that, Cam." He sat down. "Look, I screwed up with Hannah too - no doubt about that - but she didn't want to marry me. If she had, if we did ... maybe I wouldn't have said yes to Bones."

"So she asked first."

"Of course."

"What is going on between you? Are you finally together?"

He exhaled. "I don't know. I'm not sure it's the right time to push that agenda. On the other hand if I wait until after the baby is born, it will all get confused. I don't know. I'm taking it slowly. One day at a time and I'm being as consistent and as honest as I can be. I'm not letting her speak for me or dictate every nuance of the ... relationship. I think we are in a good place right now. Better every day."

"You're still in love with her," Cam stated not needing a reply.

"You know me Camille. Once I give my heart, I don't take it back ... not completely. I never stopped loving her. I accepted that all she wanted from me was partners and I had to move on with my life. I didn't like it, but I wasn't going to lose my partner over it."

"That's exactly what happened, Booth."

"That was not because of her. It was because of me. And with or without this baby, I would be working to get that partnership back."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"And if you and Hannah had gotten married?"

"I don't know ... I don't know how to answer that. Nothing happens in a vacuum and things happen for a reason."

She rolled her eyes. "And we all have a hand in our own fate."

"We do ... and I like were my fate is taking me right now."

"As long as you are clear headed and happy."

"I am."

"I don't want you to get hurt again."

"Not going to happen. Nice and slow ... I learn from my mistakes."

"Thank God one of us does." She hugged him. "Congratulations, Seeley."

"Thanks Cam ... not traditional, but apparently that's my thing, right?"

"Right."

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"- -P-L-A-N-.-"A"- -P-L-A-N-.-"A"- -P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

"I'll be there … yes, on time … aren't I always? … Don't worry Bones, I'll be there … Hey look, I gotta go … right, talk to you later … yes, yes, I'll see you later then." Booth hung up as Sweets walked into his office. "Sweets, what can I do for you?" Booth was smiling and happy; rare for him in general except for the past six weeks since Brennan agreed to let him in to be part of the pregnancy. He had hopes for beyond, but was still taking it one day at a time and enjoying the hell out of it.

"You're in a good mood."

"Spring is in the air, Sweets. It was a long cold winter."

"You must be referring to the Broadsky conviction."

"That helps too, yes."

The second trial went a lot faster and netted a conviction in two days after the jury was given the case. Broadsky was sentenced: life without the possibility of parole. Somehow it didn't seem like enough. But Booth was finally able to put the Broadsky disaster away.

"Anything else bringing on this feeling of joy?" Sweets asked.

"What do you want, Sweets?" he barked but didn't let it destroy his mood.

"Nothing, I just wanted to check in with you. We haven't spoken in a while."

"What are you talking about? We had lunch yesterday and drinks the day before that."

"True, True," Sweets agreed. "May I make an observation?"

"Could I stop you?"

"You and Doctor Brennan seem to be spending a great deal of time together."

"So."

"So, she is pregnant and I have to wonder if you two ... soon to be three ... are forming some sort of surrogate family."

"Nothing surrogate about it, Sweets." Booth assumed Sweets would have found out from one of the squints, but apparently Cam, Angela and Hodgins all kept their mouths shut - for once.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm the father, Sweet - biologically and soon to be in every other way."

"I KNEW IT!" Sweets pumped his fist in the air. "I knew it." He came in, closed the door and took a seat in front of Booth's desk. "So how did it happen? You seem OK with it so I assume you knew about it before she did it. Or maybe you have just reconciled yourself and are making the best of it. She got pregnant while you and Hannah were still together, so I'm right in assuming that it was artificial insemination. You're not the kind of guy who would cheat on his fiancée; though you were having troubles back then. Still you are not an adulterer. You and Hannah were having a lot of troubles ... ever since you got engaged. Was that from you or her or a combination? I have to wonder if you really wanted to get married or if you were just reacting to Brennan's admission that she made a mistake. Which is not to say that you didn't love Hannah, but I can see where you might have to make more out of the relationship than it really was to make up for missing your chance with Dr. Brennan. I mean, if only you would have waited; given her a chance to get used to the idea of you and she in a more intimate relationship. If you didn't come back from Afghanistan with Hannah, who knows what would have happened between you and Dr. Brennan. She was clearly ready for a relationship with you, or else she wouldn't have accepted Hannah so readily. It always made me curious why she went so far out of her way to befriend Hannah. Dr. Brennan doesn't make friends easily. In fact I would go so far as to say she has only two people in her life that she called a friend - you and Angela. The relationship you forged in those five years was profound - more profound than most people ever experience. You each have killed for the other - that has to bond people in ways that most will never understand. When your partnership dissolved she lost that bond. She lost you as a partner and a friend. She had already lost you as a potential romantic partner. She retreated into herself again pretty decisively. You didn't notice of course because you weren't around. You had your own trust issues. But for Dr. Brennan, there was no talking to her at that time; totally walled off to anything she was feeling. When I realized she was pregnant at first I was happy for her that she was taking steps to move on with her life in a positive direction. When I thought she had used your sperm without your knowledge I was more than concerned. It would be unlike her, but I imagine she could rationalize it somehow. Just like the way she befriended Hannah, having your baby without you involved would be a way for her to hang on to the only positive relationship she had in her life regardless of how it turned out. It showed the depth of her feelings for you and her growth as a person. It makes sense, from a psychological stand point. She could have gone with an anonymous donor, but she didn't. Interesting, but it makes sense. But you, you don't. Why would you agree? Were you still in love with Dr. Brennan? Are you still? Were you regretting your choice of Hannah and trying to breathe life - literally - back into your relationship with Dr. Brennan? You clearly didn't tell Hannah about the baby. I wonder when and how that would have come out if you had stayed together. How would she have reacted? Were you trying to sabotage your relationship with Hannah but agreeing to be the father for Brennan's child? Would you have gone back to major crimes if you were still with Hannah? I guess it is all academic right now since Hannah is no longer in the picture. So will you and she be raising this child together? Living together? Or shared custody? It will probably start out as shared custody but turn into something more. Is that what you want? What does Brennan want? With this kind of beginning, do you think you can make it last? The fact that you two still haven't slept together but are having a child - I mean that must be weird right? Doesn't it seem weird? It must be weird."

"Sweets, do you need me here for this conversation?"

"Right, right ... sorry ... got carried away. Well I can see that you are happy about wherever your relationship is at the moment."

"And that is as much information as you are going to get. Not to put too fine a point on it Sweets, but you didn't help us last time. In fact without you, we might never have split apart."

"You blame me? We should talk about this."

"Not going to happen, Sweets. You will excuse me if I don't invite you and your razor sharp observations back into my life or anywhere near my relationship with Bones."

"But I was not wrong."

"You can be correct and still be wrong Sweets. Be a friend, not a shrink and be happy for us, OK?"

"I can be a friend and a shrink," Sweets pressed.

"No so far."

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Booth was at his desk getting ready to close up for the night. He and Brennan were going to have dinner. His phone rang. He was expecting Brennan to call and cancel as she was trying to get some work finished up before she left on maternity leave. He turned it over to check the caller ID. Hannah Burley's face beamed at him from the small screen. He froze.

"Booth?"

He looked up to see Brennan in all her swollen beauty standing in his door way. "Hey," he smiled at her and immediately got up to help her into a chair.

"Do you need to get that?" she nodded toward the phone.

"Nope, not important. Whoever it is can leave a voicemail. Or call back. What are you doing here? Thought I was coming to pick you up."

"I got a ride over here with Cam. Thought we could go to dinner from here."

"Sure, sure ... let me just shut it down." His phone chimed to let him know that the caller had left a voicemail.

"Are you sure you don't need to return that call?"

"Nope. I'm done for the night. Everyone else can wait until the morning." He slipped into his coat, turned his phone off and dropped it into his pocket. "Ready? You really want Sushi?"

"Yes ... and French fries."

He laughed. "Your wish is my command." He helped her up and directed her out of the room with his hand on her lower back.

"Oh ... ow." She quickly put her hand to her abdomen. "Wow."

Booth placed his hand next to her. "She kicking again today?" A smile spread across his face as he felt the baby kick. "She is going to be a soccer player, no doubt about that."

"She's going to kick her way out of there."

"You OK?"

Brennan slid her hand over Booth's. "I'm great."

"We could just go home you know ... order in. Would you be more comfortable?"

"Probably, but I really want to get out while I still can."

"You got it." He gave her his arm for support and they walked out together.


	15. Chapter 15

**Plan "A": Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Chapter Fifteen**

**A/N: **This last hiatus is over, we have new Bones tonight. I'm not sure what to expect or even to hope for that won't crush me. I guess as long as there are new shows being made there is hope, right? Where there is life, there is hope - or so I hear. But with new Bones, that brings us to the end of another story in my FanFix world. Thank you all for playing along, your comments and alerts were very motivational. Depending upon the response, I could be convinced to do a few chapter sequel in the next hiatus (is that really in two/three weeks?) or a really nice epilogue. Anyway, enjoy the last angsty chapter and here's to Booth and Brennan - so many ways to screw it up, and that many more ways to get them back together. As always with admiration and thanks to the cast, crew, and even the creators and writers of Bones in spite of what they have done to us this season. Maybe time will show me their plan and this mishegas will all make sense. I hope they get the time to tell their story; goodness knows I'll be watching in spite of it all. Without further ado, here's how my version of B&B in this AU will get their sand together.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

By the beginning of June, Booth and Brennan were intimately connected. Everyone saw it, even Booth and Brennan. No one commented. No one wanted to break the spell.

The previous two and a half months afforded Booth the opportunity to get more intimate - physically intimate - with Brennan than he'd ever been with a woman. It was intimacy without sex. It was intimacy without words - nearly. Brennan revealed to him every nuance, every change, every minute detail about her body. Often the lessons were overt; occasionally they were intuitive. Booth absorbed every crumb and built on his own knowledge of women and of Brennan specifically. He used it all to forge a better understanding between them.

Allowing Booth that deeply into her personal space was a huge step for Brennan. She had essentially opened up all her doors, taken down all her barriers and allowed Booth access to everything raw and tender about her. To his credit, Booth ripped down all his walls too. He was as vulnerable to her as she was to him. It was terrifying, it was exhilarating. She stopped thinking with her genius mind; she took herself out of her head and just let herself feel. She thought she would drown in tears at first, but they quickly dried and there was a great sense of peace and contentment that she felt when she was with him. She learned about herself; she learned about him. In the light of day, she wanted to put a label on it, but couldn't. She wanted to define it anthropologically, but there was nothing that applied. It was all new to her.

In May Booth had moved into Brennan's apartment - with the understanding that it was temporary. He didn't want to be across town in case she went into labor or needed him for anything else. Of course labor was over a month away, or so he thought, so there really was no need to move in that early. It felt like the right time for both of them as Brennan had taken her maternity leave. Brennan would often have a difficult time sleeping at night. Booth would slide into bed next to her and support her added weight to help her sleep. It was in the dark on those sleepless nights that Booth and Brennan talked about their fears and hopes. They talked about the mistakes their parents made, how that made them feel as children and how they wanted to learn from all of that to help their little girl feel safe and loved in life. It was a relief to know how close they were in hopes for their daughter. There was nothing practical discussed in those wee hours, nothing specific about the future. Sometimes they didn't talk at all; they were content to be so physically connected.

There was nothing sexual about their intimacy, as was said; a few kisses and hands free to roam over the body unchecked, but it was not about sex. Booth was awed by the life growing within her; awed and slightly jealous. He would reject the jealousy the more discomfort she was in, and would deny it all together during the actual labor and birth, but he was still awed. What was surprising and a little daunting for both of them was the ease with which they fell into this physical relationship. It was very comfortable and natural. Brennan felt that there should have been more discussion, but was dealing with so much with the pregnancy and her emotions ebbing and flowing across the continuum that she didn't question it. Booth wasn't a big talker and accepted it for what it was. As expected, Booth's understanding and acceptance was greater than hers.

They didn't take the time to deal with the issues still pending between them. In spite of all the closeness, they were still tentative and wanted to do nothing to disrupt it. The issues, the words left unsaid, the apologies unmade, all seemed petty and foolish in light of the new life they were brining into the world. All that is to say that Brennan had ample opportunity to tell Booth that there was nothing artificial in the way their daughter was conceived. She should have seized on any one of a hundred moments to share that information with him, but she was still confused if it was the right thing to do. She still felt that he would take that information as a burden. That their child while created with deep love and affection was still the result of an adulterous liaison in spirit if not in fact. As of June they still weren't a couple - at least not an acknowledge couple. They were a couple of parents bonding over a child, but not a couple. They didn't talk about their experience in September but it was implied in the familiarity of their touch. If Booth had opened that discussion, she would not have hesitated, but he didn't. She assumed it was because of his shame of that night. She would not add to that shame.

Of course Booth was not feeling anything like shame. He felt more guilt about not feeling guilty than he did about actually doing what he did. The reason he didn't bring it up was that it would opened a door that he would prefer stay closed. He didn't want to get anywhere near that door as he had his own secret. Hannah had been trying to contact him since April. They had only spoken once but the connection was bad and then she was cut off. She had left him a message a few days prior that said that she would be passing through Washington and wanted to get together for a quick drink or some coffee - just to bury the hatchet. Booth had many opportunities to share that piece of information, but didn't. One came the night previous as they were watching the news and Hannah came on reporting from South Korea. Brennan tensed and simply asked, "Do you still think about her a lot?" Booth said he didn't and let it drop. It was easy to do because he was called out on a case; he should have picked it up again when he got home. He just didn't want to upset the apple cart.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

So one day, at the beginning of June, days away from her due date, Brennan was home feeling a little cooped up. She knew her time was coming sooner than later and frankly she was beyond worried about the timing and whether or not Booth would figure it out. Her doctor told her to get out as much as she could for short walks. She wound up down at the Founding Fathers, not really a short walk but she took a cab most of the way. It was lunch time and there was a possibility that Booth would be free, but he would have already called if he was. She was OK with eating lunch alone while all her friends worked. She didn't like it much. She would have preferred to be the one working, but she was too exhausted to fight it. The joys of pregnancy were wearing on her.

She was about to walk in but saw through the window Booth and a woman sitting at a corner table in a very private conversation. The woman was blonde, blonde like Hannah. Then the woman did the trademark Hannah hair flip; Brennan knew it was Hannah. It never crossed her mind to enter and confront them. What would she say? If Angela was right, Brennan was the home wrecker and the evidence was obvious. She caught sight of her bulk in the window. In spite of all her exercise and diet, she was pregnant and had gained more than baby weight. She was bloated and waddled like a fat duck. She felt obese, ugly and very unsure of herself - all new feelings for Brennan. She looked back at Hannah and Booth. They were laughing about something. Brennan slipped away; her heart chilled.

It was a cold slap in the fact that she still had no claim on Booth. He could be with any woman he wanted to be. He was being attentive to her because of the baby, but there was no talk beyond the birth. He could have reconciled with Hannah and it would have been none of Brennan's business. Hannah would of course have to make room for their baby and the mother in whatever life she was planning with Booth, just like she had to with Rebecca and Parker. The idea of Hannah being step-mother to her daughter was too much to bear. Brennan was suddenly fatigued. She hailed a cab and went home. She crawled into bed and for the first time in months, she let her mind rationalize all that had gone on with Booth since he demanded to be part of the pregnancy. Several hours later her world had righted itself again. She was fine and would be fine alone when Booth finally left her.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Had she gone inside the Founding Fathers, she would have discovered that the conversation between Booth and Hannah was not a reconciliation.

"I'm happy for you Hannah, I really am." And he was. He could be generous with her as he was so happy.

"Thank you." Hannah had just told him that she and her cameraman Charlie had reconciled and were getting married. They of course wouldn't give up their career or partnership. It was a much better fit.

"We weren't meant to last," he said with very little remorse.

"You are such a good man, Seeley. I never meant to hurt you." She assured him that she and Charlie were only friends when she and Booth were still together; that they had only gotten back together after Booth broke up with her. She told him that Charlie agreed with everything that Booth had said to her. He was on Booth's side and it was Charlie who was pushing for her to apologize.

None of that made Booth feel any better. He had made his own mistakes and of course couldn't claim complete fidelity to Hannah. On the other hand, somewhere in his mind he didn't consider that night with Brennan as cheating on Hannah. It was a grand rationalization in Booth's head but there you have it.

"So you and Temperance ... you finally figured it out?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Things are really great between us. There is more to iron out, there will always be more to iron out between us." They laughed. "But we are committed to the baby."

"The baby is yours, isn't it?" Hannah asked without malice.

"It is," he said sheepishly. "She came to me and asked. It was right after we decided not to have children. I should have told you. I'm sorry I didn't."

"Water under the bridge, Seeley. It's clear that we are with who we should always have been with. Temperance loves you in ways that I don't understand. She even lies for you."

"Lies for me?"

"I went to see her after we broke up in Egypt. I asked her straight out if the baby was yours, and she said no."

"Really?"

"Well, I asked if she used your sperm without your knowledge and she said no, but I guess that was splitting hairs a bit since clearly she had your approval."

Booth shook his head. "I'm sorry, Hannah. It was wrong of me to do that without discussing it with you."

"I don't blame you Seeley. I wasn't around enough to discuss what toothpaste to buy. If I had put our relationship first who knows what would have happened between us. But it doesn't matter anymore. We are both good."

"We are."

"I need to run, but will you give Temperance my best and please send me baby pictures."

"I will."

With that she was gone. Blew in and blew out of town like a blonde whirling dervish. Booth's anxiety was soothed at least on that score. It was good that they could finally part as friends. He really did hold no ill will toward Hannah, but that was probably more due to his current situation.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Booth arrived home around seven-thirty. The music from the apartment reverberated through the hall. It sounded like Foreigner but at an ear splitting decibel. Booth couldn't help but sing along to _**Head Games**_ as he walked toward the apartment - another guilty pleasure. His key hit the lock as the song ended, within moments it started again. Odd.

He came in and closed the door behind him. Brennan was curled up on the couch with a blanket, a book and the remote to the CD player. She didn't hear him. He was surprised she could hear herself think - or maybe not hearing herself think was the goal. He called to her a couple of times, but she didn't respond. He finally touched her on the shoulder. She jumped at his touch. He motioned for her to turn it down or better yet, off. She did the later and sat up but kept her back to him.

"What's going on?" he asked loosening his tie and kicking off his shoes.

"Nothing."

"Oh something is definitely going on. I'm a trained detective, I can sense these things."

"I was listening to music."

"The whole building was listening to music, Bones. What's going on?"

"You tell me?"

"Just coming home from work ... thinking about dinner ... you know, the usual. You?"

"Dinner? Yeah. I could eat." She glanced over at him. "I missed lunch today. I went to the Founding Fathers, but I didn't like what was on the menu."

Booth realized why she was upset. He never thought Brennan would be the kind of woman to play that kind of game with him, but God knows he'd seen worse - hell he'd done worse. "So you saw me and Hannah having coffee and decided that something was going on, chose not to come in and find out what, came home and have been trying to go deaf for five hours."

"When you put it like that it sounds bad."

"Ya think?" He pulled his tie free and opened the top few buttons. "Hannah and Cameraman Charlie are getting married. She was in town for all of three hours most of which was spent driving to and from the airport ... via taxi," he added.

"You don't owe me any explanations."

"When did you turn into a girl?" Booth asked pouring himself a drink. "If you want to know something, ask."

"Are you in love with Hannah?"

"No."

"Will you reconcile your relationship with her?"

"No, and that's not because she's marrying another man. It's because I don't want to. I don't want to be with her."

"That wasn't always the case."

"No, it wasn't; but it has been for quite some time."

"Why didn't you tell me that she was in town?"

He shook his head. He was caught on that one. "I didn't want to upset you."

"Why would it upset me?"

"Why are you upset right now?"

"I'm asking the questions, why didn't you tell me she was in town?"

He sat down on the end of the couch with his drink. "I didn't want to bring Hannah into this ... this ... this." The second _this_ he gestured to the room, with the third he gestured between the two of them. "Right or wrong, I was trying to avoid this whole conversation."

"Why?"

"Because it's ancient history."

"We've never talked about it. We've never discussed a lot of what has happened in our past and that makes me wonder what will happen in the future."

"I'm satisfied knowing that you want a future."

"I'm not."

"Do you really want to do this now?"

"I think the box of snakes has been opened."

He was confused for a moment. "Can of worms, Bones. It's a can of worms."

She didn't care about the correct expression.

"Ok. Where do you want to start?"

"Why did you end your relationship with Hannah?" She was afraid to ask worried that she would be the cause, but she needed to know.

"It was not working out. She and I didn't want the same things in life. I had made some mistakes and so had she, but in the end, we weren't on the same path. I tried to make it work, but you can't be in a relationship if only one person is trying." He was forcing himself to remain calm and only answer the questions asked, but he was dying to relate what was going on to them.

She had to get dangerously close to something, but there was no avoiding it. "Angela believes that you agreed to be the donor to sabotage your relationship with Hannah."

"Is that a question?" He wasn't being obtuse, he just didn't want to answer an unasked question.

"Is that why?"

He got up to fill his glass. "Should we order dinner? This sounds like it is going to last for a little while."

"We don't need to talk about this Booth." She shifted her position on the couch trying to get comfortable.

"You Ok?"

"Pregnant, not sick." She reminded him.

"You OK?" he repeated.

"Fine."

"Chinese, Thai or Indian?"

She hoisted herself up. "I'm going to bed."

"Bones, don't ... we need to deal with this ... we should have done this a long time ago."

"You are irritated, annoyed and flippant. This is not the right time to have this discussion."

"Flippant? Why because I want to order dinner?"

"Good night."

"I said yes to you because I love you and would do anything for you. Hannah and the effect that decision would make on my relationship with her was not a factor. If I had to, I'd have let you have this baby without me. It would have killed me, but I would have made that sacrifice for you. I'd sacrifice anything for you ... and that has never changed."

She struggled to sit back down.

He came over to help with the pillows for her back. "So, Thai?" She nodded. Booth ordered and then joined her on the couch. "Thirty minutes - so count on forty-five."

She nodded.

"Do you need me to apologize for Hannah ... either for today or before?"

"Just today."

"I'm sorry. I should have told you that she was coming to town and wanted to see me," he was sincere. "I won't let it happen again."

"Thank you."

"She is very happy for us - if that means anything to you."

She shook her head. Hannah's joy even for Booth and Brennan was not of interest to her.

"What next?"

She looked down. She had to know. "Do you regret being with me ... that night ... you know?"

"I don't regret one minute of that night. The only thing I regret is that we didn't cross that line years ago. It would have saved both of us a lot of grief."

This was her opening. This was her moment to tell him that last dangling truth. "Booth -."

"Can I ask you a question?" He cut her off. Not waiting for an answer he forged on. "Why didn't you contact me when we were separated for those seven months? I can accept everything else that happened, but I can't accept that. I understand that I rushed you that night after Sweets' book and I even understand why you turned me down. I understand that that and the job pressures were getting to you and that you needed to take a break from the partnership. It was getting pretty intense and we needed to step back. But I don't get why you didn't contact me in anyway."

Brennan hadn't thought about that period in their history for quite some time. "I don't know."

"I deserve a better answer than that."

"You do. You most certainly do." She looked over at him. "I thought about you every day. I dreamt about you at night. You were in nearly every thought I processed. Maybe I didn't contact you because you were right there, in my head."

"Not good enough, Bones."

"You scared the hell out of me Booth," she blurted out. "You scared me. I had built my life around my work. I didn't need or want anything or anyone else. Then you came into my life and that all changed."

"You came looking for me."

"That's not the way I remember it. You came to me ... you forced your way into my life."

"And you pushed back."

"I did. The point is that before you I was content to be alone. I didn't want to have child. I was happy with my work."

"Why didn't you contact me ... e-mail, snail mail, phone call, smoke signal, through a friend ... I got nothing from you. You were cutting me out of your life."

"Is that what you thought?"

"Yes," he said quickly. "You separated our partnership and then you forgot all about me."

"That's not true. I understand that you might have thought that. And maybe to a certain extent I was trying to separate you from my life. I was convinced that a relationship between us would fail and that you would be hurt."

"I was hurt when you dropped off the face of the earth for seven months. That's a long time Bones. A long time to imagine all kinds of things. First and foremost that you never loved me."

"Not true."

"It was easier to believe that as I fought my way through a warzone without my partner. I needed you Bones. I needed to talk to you. I needed your soberness and your support. I needed to confess and be absolved in the way only you could do. It was a dark time, Bones. It was a very dark time."

"And you found Hannah."

"Yes ... and I got mad at you."

"I'm sorry Booth. It was selfish and wrong not to contact you. If I had it to all over again ... " She stopped herself. Her jaw tensed and her hands gripped the pillow. "If I had to do it all over again ... I would never have turned you down. In fact, I would have pursued a relationship with you after Epps died."

He was surprised when she pulled that out of the air. "Epps?"

"Yes. When I discovered that you and Cam were engaged in a sexual relationship, I was irrationally jealous. You broke things off with Cam after Epps died. You made a statement about people not being involved who are in high risk situations. I accepted that, I governed our partnership by that, but I shouldn't have." Again her jaw clenched and her fists gripped the pillow. "I should have pursued you."

"Pursued me?" he smiled.

"Yes." Another wave of pain caused her to stifle her words.

"Bones, are you alright?"

"I believe that I am in labor," she said matter-of-factly.

"You're in what? Labor? For how long?"

"It has been sometime, but I believe the contractions are quit close now."

"You can't be in labor. It's too early ... you have three or four weeks."

Brennan cried out again. "Booth."

"Right .. fine .. labor." He jumped up. "So ... um ... what do I do?"

"You should calm down, and maybe we should head to the hospital."

"Right," he said. He was given a task and he handled it.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

He got her up, with shoes on and out the door nearly knocking down the delivery guy. Her water broke in the elevator and he practically carried her to the car. He called the doctor on the way to the hospital.

"There is something wrong," he claimed. "This is too soon. This is too early."

"Calm down, Agent Booth," the doctor said. "Baby's have their own timeline."

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

At the hospital, check in was torturous - bureaucracy in action. After what seemed like hours, Brennan was in her room. Booth was doing all the things he was supposed to - breathing, ice chips, rubbing her back. Brennan could barely focus on anyone or anything other than the contractions.

The doctor finally arrived. She was calm cool and collected. "Let's just see how we are doing, OK Dr. Brennan?"

"It won't be long now," Brennan stated.

"Who is the doctor here? Me or you?" the doc asked.

"This is too soon," Booth repeated. "Is everything all right?"

"Right on schedule," the doctor said. "She is dilated 7cm. Keep her comfortable, I'll be back soon." With that she left the room to make notes on the chart.

Booth followed her. "Doctor, why is this happened? She is not due for another month. Is she alright? Is the baby?"

"Everything appears to be normal, Agent." She looked up at him. "And she is not early. She is right on time; that is an excellent sign."

"How can that be?" he asked.

"Well maybe you got the date of conception wrong." She patted him on the shoulder and strode off down the hall.

Booth turned and looked at Brennan in the bed. She was between contractions but looked like she was recovering from the pain. The realization that had been eluding him for months finally slapped him in the face. He reentered and took her hand. "Something you want to tell me, Bones?"

"I wish I took drugs?"

"No, something else ... something about when this baby was conceived."

She looked up at him in shock. She was just about to say something when she was taken by another contraction. Her hand closed around Booth's and she gripped with a fierce grip causing him to cry out.

"Were you going to tell me?" he said sternly.

"Yes," she squeaked out.

"When?"

"Earlier tonight."

"Not before? You didn't think that this was a little tidbit of information that I might be interested to know."

"I didn't want to burden you."

"Burden me? Burden me? How would that burden me?"

"You had already authorized use of your sperm with this end in mind, to inform you that the child was conceived from an adulterous liaison was immaterial."

"It's very MATERIAL, Bones," he claimed. "I can't believe you don't see that."

She was struck with another contraction. "Doctor," she squeaked out.

"We need a doctor in here!" he shouted out the door. "You should have told me. You should have told me the second you found out. It changes everything."

"I don't see how."

"Yes you do or you wouldn't have kept it from me."

The doctor was back in a flash and calling assitance.

"Can we talk about this later?"

"What else haven't you told me?"

"I hate the name Alyssa."

"Bones!"

"Up until tonight I thought you were ashamed of what we had done. That you regretted that night, to tell you that our child was conceived then would mean that you would have a living reminder of your infidelity."

"Or a living reminder of the love I have for you; that you have for me ... that we have for each other in spite of all the shit that has gone down between us."

"Agent Booth," the doctor scolded. "Do you mind arguing with your wife about the miracle of life after she gives birth to your daughter? She is dilated to 9cm. Ok Tempe ... I need you to push."

Brennan grunted loudly as she bore down. Boot supported her back.

"You should have told me, Bones."

"Ok ... push again."

Another grunt. "I should have."

"One more time. She is crowning."

Grunt.

"You should never have left me."

"You're right."

"Again, Tempe ... push, push hard."

"Tell me."

"Agent Booth, really this is hardly the time."

"Bones ... tell me."

"I love you, Booth." She yelled it out giving one final push. He kissed her.

The sound of a baby crying was heard and both Booth and Brennan looked toward the doctor. She was placing the baby on Brennan's stomach.

They laughed and tears were dripping down their faces. He supported her as she touched the sticky, red child now on the outside.

"May I introduce you to your daughter?"

They laughed again amazed by what they had accomplished.

"Agent, would you like to cut the cord?"

Booth tentative moved to take the scissors from her hand and gently cut the cord separating his daughter from the mother of his child. It really was a miracle ... in so many ways; a miracle that Booth and Brennan found themselves together with their daughter - everyone safe and sound.

Keeping on hand on his daughter and his arm around Brennan, he leaned down and touched his forehead to Brennan's. "I love you ... thank you." He kissed her. They were finally ready to begin their life together as a family.

"She doesn't look like a Saisha either," he said.

"It means truth or meaning of life."

"Maybe as her middle name." He grinned and kissed her again.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

**A/N: **There you have it. And baby makes three.I could be talked into an epilogue in a few weeks if anyone is up for it. If so, I will need a name for Baby Girl Booth - or is it Baby Girl Brennan - or maybe Baby Girl Brennan-Booth. As always, thanks for playing along. Here's to Old School Bones - maybe it will be back tonight.


	16. Chapter 16

**Plan "A": Redux**

By LizD

Winter 2011

**Epilogue**

**A/N: **Per request ... here you go. I hope this satisfies your Shipper Tooth since we have to wait for a DATE that went up in smoke (I am guessing 5/19 or 5/26 – the year of course is the tricky part).

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

"You should let me have this one, Bones." Booth came out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist continuing their conversation. His tone was light but he was serious.

"Why?" Brennan pulled on her jeans, her hair still wet from her shower. Booth always liked her in jeans and never understood why she didn't wear them more often.

"Because relationships are about compromise and we're in a relationship." He slipped into his briefs and used the towel to wipe the rest of the shaving cream off his face.

"Compromise is a settlement of issues by mutual concessions. How is this mutual?" She couldn't decide between the red silk or the blue linen blouse. She held each up to her chin and checked the mirror.

"No, no ... it's like when we order Thai when I want Indian, or we watch baseball when you would rather be doing just about anything else." Booth pulled on a t-shirt and came around behind indicating that the blue was better. "This is important to me," he said earnestly. He kissed the back of her neck. "More important to me than it is to you," he whispered.

That was true. "It won't change anything," she stated. She rehung the blue shirt, slipped into the red one and buttoned it up.

"For you it won't change anything, for me it will change a lot." He tossed a dark suit, belt and crisp white shirt onto the bed and flipped through his plethora of ties. "So you should let me have this one."

She pulled her favorite tie out and handed it to him. "Alright."

"Alright?" He studied the tie and then put it back opting for a different one.

"Yes, your logic is sound." She replaced his tie choice with hers and closed the closet door thus ending the silent tie debate.

Shaking his head he accepted her wardrobe selection. "The only woman in American who can turn a marriage proposal into a logic problem." He pulled on his shirt and buttoned it.

She entered the bathroom but called out to him, "There is no way of verifying that supposition."

"Figure of speech." He slipped into his pants, slid his belt into place and buckled it a little looser than he had a few months prior. Co-habitation was taking a toll on his waist line.

She stood in the door way to the bathroom combing her hair. "I would suspect that there are many women who chose to marry for reasons that have little to do with love or romance." She ducked back into the bathroom.

"We're not talking about the Housewives of DC." He flipped his collar up and slid the tie into place. "So … what? We should pencil it in between a visit to the pediatrician and a crime scene." He tied his tie and folded his collar down

"Given your romantic nature and your religious beliefs," she called out to him. "I assumed you would want to give it more ceremony, with friends and family." The blow dryer came on.

"I'd settle for a justice of the peace," he muttered to himself. He reached over and turned up the baby monitor.

"I will not change my name," she shouted out over the whirr of the blow dryer.

"I'm not asking you to," he said in a normal tone. She often did that; talk to him while she was blow drying her hair though she knew she could not hear his response. It was annoying; someday it would be a thing, but not yet.

Booth dug though the sock drawer and found some new socks that he didn't remember buying. He pulled off the tags, and slipped them on. "Nice," he said looking down as his feet. He actually didn't buy them. Brennan took to occasionally buying him socks and ties and just putting them away without showing him.

She turned the blow dryer off and returned to the doorway to the bathroom brushing her hair out. "My accountant and lawyer will suggest a prenuptial agreement."

"I don't want your money, Bones."

"Isn't that what marriage means - a joining of lives: physically, legally and financially?

"In the pragmatic sense, yes, but -."

"There are financial considerations: trust funds for Parker and the baby as well as retirement."

"Parker?"

"Of course, I assume you have been saving for his education, I have as well, we should join those."

"You have?"

"Yes," she said matter-of-factly. And she had. Education was everything to her, it rescued her for a life full of hurt and pain and loneliness and if Parker wanted an education, she would be prepared to help. She started it years ago it was something her father had said about the reason he robbed banks. Brennan took that to heart and decided that she could do that for Parker even though he was not her son and she maintained it even after Booth and she were no longer partners. There was time and if it weren't appropriate to give it to Parker, she would start a scholarship.

"Really? You started a college fund for Parker?" He was surprised and a little confused.

Brennan didn't want to discuss it with him. It would mean that she would have to discuss a lot more than she was prepared to at the moment. "We should also want to ensure the financial health of our children. If anything were to happen to me, or you or both of us we would want our children to be taken care of financially. We will need to revise our wills." She bent completely over and brushed her hair upside down. "There are many advantages to comingling our lives."

"I'm all for comingling." Booth watched anticipating her signature Brennan move - it was sexier than all the lingerie and perfume in the world. She would flip back up, hair flowing, breasts bouncing and then she would shake hear head letting her lovely locks find their own place framing her face. Her cheeks would flush, her eyes sparkle and she licked her lips. It was so sexy. The best part, she had no idea what it did to him, because if she did, she wouldn't do it in front of him as it took every ounce of self-control not to act on his desire.

"As long as things are good, but when that changes."

"It won't."

"You can't know that. Neither can I. Hence the reason for the prenuptial agreement."

FLIP. BOUNCE. SHAKE. FLUSH. SPARKLE. LICK.

"From my lawyer, not me." She noticed that he was looking at her. "What?" she asked innocently. She was more than pleased with his enigmatic smile. She knew exactly what that move did to him; she didn't know why, but that didn't prevent her from doing it every morning and every night – every chance she got.

"No, nothing." What were they talking about? Money, right. "Do I get to write checks on the account? Or will I be turning over everything to your lawyer and accountant and have to get their approval to buy a cup of coffee." He pulled on his suit coat.

She strolled by him stoking his cheek on the way to the closet. She was flirting with him. She was enticing him. If she didn't stop, he wouldn't either. She had been doing it for days, longer, at least a week. She was not a coy woman, so Booth had no idea what her end game was. If she wanted sex she would ask or make some other overt statement or at least he assumed she would. Booth had no idea what was going on in her mind. He was enjoying the hell out of it, but enough was enough.

"It's only money, Booth."

"Says the woman who has more than she can spend."

"I'll go to the bank today." She leaned over to pick her shoes giving him full view of her perfect ass. She had worked hard in the last six weeks to get her figure back. She still had a little ways to go, but not much more. "And put your name on the account, what you choose to do with your money is up to you."

Booth enjoyed the view. "What will your lawyer and accountant say?" He really didn't care what they would say.

"The lawyer will disapprove; the accountant will tell you to keep the receipts when you draw from that account." She studied him for a moment before slipping into her shoes. "Is that why you want to get married?"

"I think you know me better than that." He turned to the bureau to pick up his keys, wallet, etc placing each item in its assigned pocket. He flipped the poker chip in the air and stuffed it into his pants.

"My accountant and lawyer will ask."

"I'll sign whatever they draw up." He stepped to the door and glanced back at her. "If I am very good and meet all their conditions, do I get an allowance?" he added sarcastically.

She picked up her bag and walked passed him into their daughter's room. "I'll call you to tell you when you can go down to the bank to put your signature on the card, and they you can take what you want for whatever you want."

"I don't want your money, Bones." He reiterated more annoyed. He trailed after her.

"I realize that the relative differences in our income are significant and that may hurt your male ego, but I will not treat you like a child and give you an allowance."

"It was a joke," he protested.

"It wasn't funny." She looked in on their little girl in the crib. She was awake and just staring at her mobile. As soon as she saw Brennan her face spread into a huge smile and she started kicking her legs. Brennan threw a cloth over her shoulder and lifted the child up and held her close as she fussed with the blankets and toys.

Booth came in to help stuff the necessary supplies into the bag. "Are you sure about taking her to the lab? What kind of place is that for a baby?" He rubbed the child's back. "Don't forget her horsey." He bobbed the little pink pony in front of the child who just smiled.

"Safe, convenient for breast feeding and she is surrounded by people who love her. The nanny will be there, but so will Angela, Cam, Hodgins, and too many others to count. Angela brought her child to work for the first nine months and it was very beneficial for both the mother and child. To be honest it helped the lab as well."

"Are you sure you want to go back so soon. It's only been six weeks."

She stepped around him. "It's time to go back to work, Booth, for both of us."

"I could take some more time off."

"It's definitely time for you to go back to work." He had been driving her crazy for over a week. She threw the bag over her shoulder and started to walk out.

"I'll see you at lunch? Both of you." He leaned down to kiss his daughter's head. He turned to give Brennan a kiss as well, but she had turned away. "Hey? No kiss?"

"You're angry with me." She walked toward the kitchen.

"I'm not angry ... maybe a little ... irked." He followed after.

"When you're irked with me," she corrected. "You typically don't like to kiss me."

"If you don't kiss me, I'll be more irked ... irkier."

She turned back to him. He was hard on her heels and they bumped into each other. With her free hand she reached up to his neck and pulled him to her. She pressed her pelvis into his, her chest into his as much as possible considering she was holding their child, and kissed him deeply. It was not a quick peck on the cheek before heading off to work. Booth had to stop it or there would be no work, and he hadn't been given permission yet – or a doctor's clearance – or whatever they were waiting for, he hadn't gotten it yet. It had been a long nine months. He was long overdue for a little somethin' somethin' from his beautiful ... not-wife. All those nights of holding her, kissing her, feeling her in the bed next to him were really really nice, but he needed more.

She smiled. She could literally feel the effect she had on him grow. "Still irked?"

"No," he croaked. "Not irked ... definitely not irked … but something."

"Good, we'll see you at lunch." She swept out without a look back.

Booth sat down on a stool after she left. He needed a moment to compose himself; maybe another shower, cold this time.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

It had been six weeks since the birth of Booth and Brennan's daughter. They agreed on her name the moment Brennan suggested it: Caroline Julian Brennan Booth. They would call her CJ. It wasn't as exotic a name as Brennan would have liked, but she wanted to honor Caroline and Booth readily agreed. It was also understood that that Angela and Hodgins would be the god parents and the ones named as guardian in the event that anything were to happen to both Booth and Brennan. The four of them talked about it, and it was agreed. Hodgins was the most honored. He had never relished his familial obligations and did nearly everything he could to get out of them, but the family he was creating was very important to him; he was quite sentimental. Brennan was already listed at guardian for Katherine Temperance Hodgins. Angela was happy that their daughters would be raised together.

Telling Parker was cause for a lot of discussion between Booth and Brennan and Booth and Rebecca. They chose to do it early in May just before Booth moved in to Brennan's apartment. They wanted him to be aware that Booth was moving and they wanted Parker to be part of setting up the nursery and of preparing to bring the baby home. What to say, what not to say, how much and how little needed to be shared was cause for much debate most of which Brennan deferred to Booth as he was Parker's father. It was actually the first time that they felt like parents, but they didn't talk about that either. They really didn't know how to broach the status of their relationship as they had not discussed it themselves. Booth told Rebecca in a brief phone call. She didn't say much. She was unimpressed and was worried that Booth was setting himself up for a great deal more heartbreak at the hands of Dr. Temperance Brennan but she kept that opinion to herself. Bear in mind that when the information was imparted to Rebecca, Booth was still under the impression that the child was conceived via artificial insemination. Rebecca was less interested in Booth's relationship status at the time of conception, she just didn't want to explain how artificial insemination worked nor did she want to try to explain why it was done that way. Parker was eleven; the birds and the bees talk was a year to two before but this would bring up more questions. In the end they sweated the small stuff for no reason. Booth had Parker for the weekend; they went to Brennan's for swimming, dinner and games. They sat him down between activities and he blurted out, "so I'm going to have a baby sister, cool!" He didn't need any detailed explanation, and didn't mind staying in Brennan's guest room with all the baby stuff when he came for his weekends. Parker was a good kid. Someday he would ask all those questions, and when that day came, they hoped they had better answers. Parker was really good with CJ and both Booth and Brennan were sure to include Parker in all milestones and Booth made sure to give him some dedicated father and son time.

Booth still hadn't given up his apartment, but he hadn't been home in a while. They had talked around buying a house or larger condo, but nothing was settled. Most of his clothes were in her closet but it was getting cramped. They needed three bedrooms and a home office. But before Booth made any kind of permanent move, he wanted to nail down what their understanding was and if he got his way, they would be married. She had agreed to a marriage, but somehow Booth didn't think her heart was in the right place for it.

The relationship between Booth and Brennan was good, really good. They hadn't make love yet, but that was because of the post pregnancy issues more than anything else. They of course were both exhausted too. Booth always got up with Brennan for the two, four and six o'clock feedings. She suggested that he try to sleep, but he had taken six weeks off too to be there for them. He actually wanted time with his daughter too. Brennan found Booth's way with the baby very endearing. His large hands holding her, changing her diapers, and dressing her was amazing to watch. Brennan seemed to take to mothering very naturally. She didn't believe she would, but it was very normal. CJ was a little angel. Slept well and only fussed when she woke up to eat. She never screamed or cried uncontrollably, but they were pretty doting parents, that might change when they got back to work. After the first week or so, there were a parade of friends and family coming to visit. Max was the one who came by the most. He loved his little granddaughter and offered to babysit often. They hadn't taken him up on that yet, but again, that might change as they got back to work.

Work would more or less go back to the way it had been before Brennan took pregnancy leave. She would continue to be called in on cases that were difficult and she would continue to do identifications, research and other non-field related projects that the Jeffersonian dictated. Booth would remain partnerless and that worried Brennan more than she let on. The most important thing was that life was going to find a new normal - relative normal soon for Booth and Brennan.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

"Booth thinks we should get married," Brennan announced to Angela as she settled her daughter down for a nap.

"How unreasonable for him to want to commit to love, honor and cherish the mother of his child for the rest of his life. What could possibly have gotten into his head?" Sarcasm rarely worked with Brennan.

"I think Booth just wants to be married – like it's some sort of rite of passage."

"You should appreciate that from an anthropological perspective."

"I do … I just don't believe in marriage."

"Ephemeral? Transitory? Fleeting?"

"I think it's unrealistic to promise to feel a certain way for a lifetime. No one can know what is around the next corner. The statistic that says fifty percent of the marriages in American end in divorce. That maybe slightly inflated, and there is a case to be made that the percentage drops significantly the older the couple is when they first marry. The rate of divorce for couples in our age range drops to around six or seven percent."

"Well the odds are certainly in your favor. That has got to be one on the plus side."

"But that's not why I don't believe in marriage."

"Do tell," Angela sunk down on to the arm of the couch.

"I don't feel that a social/legal contract is necessary."

"There are millions of gay and lesbian people who disagree with you."

"I have never understood why they are lobbying to be allowed to marry when the institution itself is flawed."

"Sweetie, while I would love to sit here and listen to your treatise on Marriage in America, you and I both know that you are full of it."

"I beg your pardon."

"Come on, Bren. This is not about your attitude about marriage. This is about you and Booth. You are worried that he only wants to be with you because of CJ."

"It is not unreasonable to assume that."

"Yes it is. You love him. He loves you. You both love your daughter. Wouldn't it just be simpler all around if you married – just for once in your life do what normal people do."

"I told him that I would marry him," she said dismissively.

"You accepted his proposal?" Angela was shocked.

"He made the point that it was more important to him that we do, than it was to me that we didn't. So I agreed."

"Well that's romantic," she said sarcastically.

"I'm not sure if there is any _romance_ left."

"What are you talking about? … You two haven't slept together yet."

Brennan looked away.

"Or have you?"

"We sleep in the same bed on a regular basis and have for nearly three months. But if you are inquiring about intercourse, no we have not have sex in that time." Brennan chose her words very carefully. One day she would tell Angela about how her daughter was actually conceived, and perhaps another day she would tell Angela about the intimacy that Booth and Brennan shared that didn't involve sex, per se, in the last months of her pregnancy. However, Brennan's larger concern at the moment was that he didn't initiate or respond to her sexual advances. Maybe the only reason he was with her was for the baby. He had yet to move out of his apartment, he wasn't receptive to buy a house or moving to a larger apartment. He did suggest they get married, but Brennan knew that there were a lot of different kinds of marriage arrangements in the world and it too could be strictly for their daughter's sake. "He doesn't seem interested. I have done everything I can to entice him. This morning I joined him in the shower."

"I'm surprised you made it to work on time."

"Honestly, I am too. But he wasn't interested in spite of the fact that his physical response seemed to indicate that he was very aroused."

"Ohhh ... Sweetie ... TMI ... I love you, and I love Booth ... but I don't want to hear all the gory details."

Brennan shrugged. She assumed that Angela knew what an erection was and what it meant, but if she didn't want to discuss it, Brennan was fine with that too.

"Bren, have you been cleared by the doctor?"

"Yes."

"And you have some sort of birth control."

"Yes."

"Does Booth know you've been cleared?"

"I haven't told him in so many words - he has criticized on more than one occasion that I am too direct, too clinical and that takes him out of the ... the mood, as he calls it."

"I can imagine." She stood up. "Have you just jumped him?"

"I understood that men typically liked to be enticed into making the first overture."

"In this case, I think you need to make an exception."

"Should I?"

"Sweetie, you have set most of the ground rules in that relationship. Booth is just trying to oblige you."

"If he doesn't know me better than that, why should we get married or pursue this relationship any further. If we can't be direct and honest with each other we are doomed to a lifetime of misunderstandings."

Angela shook that comment away. It wasn't that Brennan was wrong, but Angela knew enough that there are certain understandings that need to set the stage for open communication - and sex was a big part of that. "When was the last time you went on a date?"

"A date?"

"Yeah, like dress up, reservations, dinner at a place with linen napkins, fine wine, good conversation … maybe even a movie or a long moonlit walk."

"Never."

"Never?"

"We have never experienced anything like you describe."

"Then it's high time you do. I'll take the baby home with me, you take Booth out on a date … and then take him home and … you know … take him."

"It's our first day back at work."

"Perfect timing, neither of you have anything to do yet."

"My in box is full."

"It can wait one more day."

"What can wait one more day?" Booth said cruising into Brennan's office like he belonged there. He wasn't looking at either of them. He was making a bee line for his daughter. "Hey there little one," he cooed picking her up into his arms. She fussed and smiled at her father. "What have you learned today, huh?" He kissed her little head and rocked her in his arms. Both Angela and Brennan melted to see big, strong, manly Booth, cooing at a little baby. Brennan never grew tired of watching him. His singing needed improvement, but he talked to her like a little person. He didn't do that baby talk that she saw most fathers do. He turned to Brennan, "What can wait one more day? Getting her a little lab coat?"

Brennan turned to Angela who nodded and ducked out of the office.

"Something I said?" he asked noticing Angela's hasty departure.

"I think she was trying to give us some privacy."

"Something wrong?" He got concerned.

"I would like to go out to dinner tonight … a nice dinner … maybe a movie … or a walk."

"Dinner? Tonight? Just you and me? On a school night?" He smiled softly. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

She shrugged a nod.

"What about out little bundle of joy here?"

"Angela will take care of her tonight." Brennan took CJ from Booth and placed her back in the crib. It was her nap time. "We can get her in the morning."

"All night ... just you and me alone all night? No two AM feeding? No four AM pacing the floor? You mean we could actually get eight hours of sleep?"

"Is that what you want? To sleep?"

Booth didn't quite know how to answer that question. "Dinner sounds good ... where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere you like."

"Do you want me to make the reservations?" he asked.

"No, I will take care of it."

"You going to pick me up?"

"Will you be going back to your apartment?"

Booth hadn't planned on it but maybe she wanted him to. It was all getting too confusing trying to second guess what was going on in her mind. "Did you want me to?"

"No."

"Then, no. I'll meet you by the couch. I'll be the one in suit with the red carnation."

Brennan looked confused. Why would she need him to tell her that he would be wearing a red carnation? She saw that Booth was smiling so she determined that he was joking, but she didn't understand why. "Ok ... seven o'clock?"

"I'll be there."

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Brennan arrived home around six. She wanted more time to change for their 'date', but the lab got busy in the afternoon. She laid out her clothes and went to the bathroom to shower. Booth arrived home around six-fifteen. He couldn't help himself; he brought her flowers and was putting them in water when Brennan emerged from the bathroom in a robe.

"Isn't it tradition for the person requesting the date to bring the other flowers?" she asked.

"Since when have we been traditional?" He leaned over the counter and kissed her.

"They are lovely, thank you."

"Welcome, so where are we going?"

"Thought we would go to that new Sushi place you've been talking about?"

"Were you able to get reservations?" he asking knowing that they were booked out for months.

"Yes ... Why? Was it supposed to be difficult?"

"Apparently not for a world famous Forensic Anthropologist such as yourself." He pulled his tie free and took off his jacket.

"I believe it had more to do with my books than my work."

He smiled. "No doubt."

"I'm done in the bathroom," she called over her shoulder as she went to change.

Booth stayed in the kitchen. Something occurred to him. He was actually nervous. He very much wanted the night to go well. He didn't know what her reasoning was for wanting a date, but he would do what he could to give her the night she wanted. He was sorry that he didn't think of it first.

He went to shave again.

Brennan was in the living room on the phone with Angela when Booth was done preparing for the night. There was no stated reason for it, but they tried to stay out of each other's way when dressing, like they were on a real date. He would pick her up by the couch.

He was in his Sunday-Go-To-Meeting Suit that was jet black with a hint of charcoal pinstripes. He wore a dark gray silk shirt and a darker gray silk tie with no markings on it at all. He looked and felt great. When she stood up to put the phone away, she took his breath away. She was in a very form fitting black dress that had just a hint of sparkle to it. Her hair was up but with wispy tendrils framing her face. Her make-up was understated and with soft colors. She wore deep red CFM pumps that were strappy around her ankles with a minimum of four inch heels. She carried a little red bag that matched the heels. Booth had never seen those shoes before, he would remember; hell they would have been the subject of many dreams - both daytime and nighttime.

"Wow," he uttered.

"Do I look alright?" she asked innocently.

He stepped up to her. The heels brought her lips level with his. "Stunning." He kissed her softly. Booth had known enough women to know that he didn't get to mess up their make-up at the beginning of the night.

She looked down at herself. "I would have thought that these shoes and this dress would have elicited a different response - at least that is what the sales lady said today when I bought them."

He stepped back to take a look at her again. "You bought this today? For me?"

"I did."

"Wow ... that's hot."

"Why?"

"Cause you've never dressed for me before."

"That's not true." She would often choose clothes that she observed Booth noticing that started very early in their partnership.

"Well, since this is our first date … "

"Is this wrong? Traditionally first dates are about getting to know a person. They are tentative and awkward. We have been partners for year, we have had a few issues come between us, and now we have a daughter."

"Like I said, since when have we been traditional?" He leaned into her. "And I hope we have many more dates." He stroked her cheek.

"The point is that we know each other quite well, so to call this a first date might be misleading." She looked away. "We should go. We're going to be late."

"Bones?" He touched her arm and turned her back toward him. "We do know each other … very well … there's something on your mind."

Brennan frowned. She didn't know how to be coy if he were going to ask a direct question. She didn't like being coy anyway. "Are you attracted to me - sexually?"

"What? Yes … of course I am … why would you ask such at thing?"

"I have been trying to get you interested in having sex – making love with me for over a week now and you do not seem … interested."

"Is that what the shower was about this morning? And all that other …" He almost laughed until he realized that she was not kidding.

"I will understand if you are no longer interested as my body has changed, I'm lactating. It's not uncommon for a man to lose interest particularly due to sleep loss. It is quite natural."

"Wait … wait ... wait." He stood in front of her with his hands on her shoulders. "First things first … I am more than interested. I have been fighting to stop myself. As for your body changing? It was amazing to experience the pregnancy – before, during and after - with you. If anything you're more beautiful to me now than you ever have been."

"Then I don't understand."

"Bones, you have always been so … direct … I didn't think I was allowed or that you were cleared by the doctor. If you were, you would have told me."

"You suggested that I was too direct, too clinical when we have discussed sex in the past."

He nodded. "Yes ... that's true, but I didn't say it was a bad thing. It was just an observation." He cocked his head. "Is that why you wanted this 'date'? Why you went and got his fantastic dress and those shoes? Were you trying to seduce me?"

"I was trying to give you what you want … what you are used to in a woman."

"Bones, don't ever change for me. Seriously. This dress and those shoes are keepers … and going out to dinner and taking a walk – though I'm not sure how far you will get in those stilettos."

"Not far." She leaned against the couch to take her weight off her feet."

"Those are great ideas. I enjoy your company no matter what we're doing. But please don't feel that you can't be yourself. Don't ever feel that I want you to be different, because it's just not true. We disagree about a lot of things, and I like that. I love debating with you. The first thing about you that I fell in love with was the way you didn't play games. There was no second guessing when it came to you. You always said the absolute truth and damn convention. I can't tell you what pressure that takes off a guy. Most guys spend their life trying to figure out how they pissed off their wives or girlfriends and then trying to figure out how to apologize for it. I don't have that problem. I'm a lucky guy. If you get upset with me, you tell me. And I will apologize for it and we will move on. OK?"

"Ok." She looked a little sad.

"What?"

"Would you be terribly upset if we didn't go out to dinner? If we stayed in and just ordered Thai or a pizza. I'm exhausted and would like to just be with you at home."

"We don't have to go out. We can order whatever you want – I have a preference for Thai, but it's up to you." He hesitated. "How exhausted are you?"

She smiled. "Not that tired." She leaned in and whispered in his ear. "They deliver until midnight." She sucked his earlobe between her lips and teased it with her tongue.

"Suddenly not tired … and not hungry … for food." He swooped her up into his arms. "Just one thing."

"And that would be?" She continued to nuzzle his neck as she pulled his tie loose.

"Don't take those shoes off."

She laughed. "You might come to regret that."

"I'll take my chances." He kissed her and started carrying her to the bedroom.

Booth's phone started to ring. And then Brennan's.

They looked at each other and laughed. "Voice-mail," they said in unison. They disappeared behind the bedroom door which was kicked closed by those deep red CFM pumps. Guess they earned their moniker that night.

**-P-L-A-N-.-"A"-**

Agent Wilcox hung up the phone after leaving a message for Booth on both his phone and Dr. Brennan's. Wilcox and Booth hadn't worked together in a while, but somehow this bag of trouble landed in his lap. That's what he gets for working late to impress the boss. He turned to the older man who was standing next to him.

"I'm sorry, sir, Agent Booth does not appear to be answering his phone and I can't raise his partner either. Who did you say you were again?"

"My name is Booth, Billy Booth … I'm Seeley's father."

**x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x**

**A/N:** Nice little end to **Plan "A"** except for that last bit. So it's Hiatus time AGAIN (what a surprise). I'm working on a sequel, if you're interested. It should be about ten chapters long and I will probably start posting on Friday or Monday which should take us through until April 7th and NEW Bones. The title will be RETURN ENGAGEMENT and it will feature the RETURN of Booth's Dad and B&B's ENGAGEMENT. Me thinks all their troubles are not over and that the solid ground they are standing on is a raft in the sea of troubles not of their own making. Can they help each other or will it every man, woman and child for themselves?

If you enjoyed Plan 'A' Redux, a little comment would be much appreciated. And to all of you who have been commenting; Thank you very much. I like hearing your feedback.


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